Safe
by antioxidants help your heart
Summary: Our favorite morgue staff survives the mountain and returns home. They pair up. Abby shows up. Trauma, chaos, and kissing ensues.
1. Surrounded By People Who Love You

A/N: Clearly I do not own the characters of "Crossing Jordan."

He had held her. Held her against him as if by holding her long enough he wouldn't have to let her go. Held her so that when they were apart the faint pressure of her still tingled in his arms, and his neck still tickled with the memory of her dark hair.

He held her on the unforgiving mountain first, in the shadow of the fractured plane, and again as hope returned in the form of choppers high above. And finally he held her in the quiet discomfort of a hospital waiting room, between the weeping woman with wispy white hair whose friend was unable to calm her, and the tired young man sleeping under a newspaper.

With the hard arms of the chair pushing into him, he held her when she fell asleep. Held her while Bug read through every newspaper in the room, even the one that had once covered the man snoring gently beside them, despite Lily's protests ("Let the poor man be!").

He held her when Nigel came in, arm swathed in bandages, followed closely by a softer, concerned Kate, who, by the looks of her damp hair and clean clothing, was the only one yet to shower. He held her when Nigel gave up waiting, draped himself with an audible thump over a chair, and fell asleep under Kate's possessive eye. He held her to him all through the long night, and through three separate receptionists. He was still holding her when Bug gently replaced the newspaper over the man's eyes and finally, when the doctor came out, he shook her gently awake and released her.

Jordan woke quickly and looked urgently up at the tired surgeon before her. Her face still showed the imprint of the folds of Woody's shirt, creases ran across her nose and right cheek, spider-webbing from sleep-dark eyes down to her jaw.

"Well?" Her voice cracked on the single word, worn from a mixture of exhaustion and worry. Her dark eyes pleaded for good news, an eyebrow raised in question quavered with barely concealed panic.

Woody kept his arm around her waist, still tingling with under-circulation from hours under her sleeping weight. Some of the tension in her body relaxed as his hand rubbed her back, comfortingly wrinkling and unwrinkling the dark blue shirt she'd thrown on. Kate left Nigel sleeping across the room and came to hover nearby.

The surgeon looked down at them earnestly, careful to make eye contact with Jordan to assure that she understood what he was saying. He had been told, and had picked up from gossip, some of what these people had been through.

"He did well in surgery. We managed to get the bleeding from his spleen completely under control, we think we found the only place he was bleeding from. The rib was fractured neatly and we set it. He's stable, but the blood loss was quite severe."

"Thank god." Bug had come up behind them. Lily peered over his shoulder, while a small, blanketed bundle in her arms stirred slightly, trapping her light hair between it and her chest. She rocked it absently.

"Can we see him?" The quaver was still in Jordan's voice, but the scratchiness of sleep was fading quickly, and her gaze met the surgeons steadily, but her hand clutched Woody's knee painfully. His other hand covered hers.

"He's not conscious yet, but well… Are there any family members here? I mean, it's customary for them to see the patient first…"

Jordan looked hard at him, as Bug folded his arms. The doctor shrugged apologetically. Woody shifted and prepared to hold her down. The worried frown on Lily's face eased a little in amusement as she recognized what he was doing.

Jordan's voice lost the quaver and gained a hard edge. "Where is his room?"

"Just down the hallway and to the right, but I really…"

"We have been colleagues for years. When I had surgery he was entered as my legal guardian. We nearly died on a damn cold mountain in the middle of nowhere. I did everything I could to keep him alive. Now, what was that you were just saying about family?"

She brushed off Woody's restraining hold, and shouldered her way past the bewildered doctor, whose mouth opened in protest. Forgetting that she was in socks, having taken off her shoes before she fell asleep on Woody, she strode out the swinging doors and into the empty hallway.

Woody smiled apologetically at the poor man. "Just let her go."

Lily came forward. "He would want her to be there. Please." Her head tilted appealingly.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

It was the third door she tried that led her to Garret. For a moment she didn't recognize him, lying there in an antiseptic room, pale sheets drawn up around him, surrounded by wires with his weathered skin sallow in the harsh light. The thick stubble on his face betrayed that it had been awhile since he had properly shaved. She watched his chest rise and fall for a moment, until it was clear that his breathing was regular and reassuringly strong.

A deep breath, and her hesitation was over. She stepped firmly into the room, and shut the door behind her with a light click, which sounded harshly against the hush, even though she tried to hold the door back to avoid it.

"Garret…" The catch in her rich voice was not from weariness.

Barely four steps brought her to the hard chair beside him. In another smooth movement she was seated, and grasping his rough hand between both of hers from amidst the wires. Her hair had hardly settled before she leaned swiftly towards his body.

"I'm here."

And she settled down to wait, as he had done for her not so very long ago.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"…And you didn't think to wake me when the doctor came in?" Nigel was exasperated.

"You were sleeping. The doctor said he was doing well. He wasn't awake. It wasn't urgent." Kate replied with an amused and exasperated look of her own.

Nigel ran his good hand through his hair. "You should have woken me."

Across the room, Maddy had woken. A thin wail filled the room, slowly gaining in volume despite the attempts of Bug and Lily to quiet her with brightly colored toys, and much to the annoyance of the man under the newspaper. His head came up, and he was awake for the first time that any of them had seen. He glared at the mother and child, and with an audible snap, unfurled the newspaper that had covered him and began to read.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Jordan…" A rasping voice got her attention. "Jordan…"

"Garret!"

He lifted his head up a bit from the pillow with an audible grunt and surveyed his surroundings. Jordan watched him, a relieved smile lightening her face.

"I had surgery." It was a statement, but a slight question was implied.

"Yes," Jordan reassured him quickly. "It went well! According to the doctor you should be up and about in no time."

That wasn't actually what he had said. Nor what the nurses had said the times they had come to check on him. Most of their reports had hints of "a long road ahead" and "too early to tell." Jordan ignored it stubbornly.

He gave her a hard look, not quite prepared to believe her about that. As if reading his mind, she shook her head slightly, but whether it was a warning not to question her, or an admission of her lie he did not know. Too tired to argue, he let it slide.

"Everyone okay?" His voice was quiet, but she had no trouble understanding.

"Yeah. Woody, Bug, Kate and I got clean bills of health from the doctors. The only things wrong were a few bumps and bruises and a little dehydration. Nigel has a broken arm, but they set it and gave him stitches, and Kate hasn't left his side. We're all fine, Garrett, we're all fine." The renewed catch in her voice revealed her emotional state.

"Nigel and Kate?" His lips quirked into a small smile.

Her lips twitched as she looked down at him, and she nodded.

He gave her an intent look. "You and Woody?"

She hesitated for a moment, and then nodded again.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Jordan came out into the waiting room quietly as it was still early in the morning, and only polite not to wake those inside. She really needn't have bothered; the wailing child had awoken most of the room before her mother whisked her out. Lily had been trailed by fading wails and an anxious Bug. The man with the newspaper had leaned back in his chair and fallen asleep within moments of their leave-taking.

Woody rose to greet Jordan, eyes questioning. From a chair on the other side of the room, Nigel sprung up, followed more sedately by Kate.

"Well?"

"He's awake!" She smiled at them.

Kate sighed in exasperation. "And?"

Nigel looked at her eagerly while she leaned gratefully against Woody.

"And he wants to see you guys. But the nurse says one at a time. When I left he was still protesting."

"Shouldn't we call his daughter? I mean, this would be a good time for them to talk."

Everyone gave Kate a surprised look.

"What? It would be!"

"Kate," said Nigel as if explaining something to a small child, "Garret and his daughter haven't spoken in ages. I don't think now would really be the time, we really shouldn't let him get upset and-"

"She does have a point," said Jordan slowly.

"Have you called your father lately?"

"Well, not since we got back…"

Woody stepped in between them. "The hospital said they were going to call her. Guys, relax, they're taking care of it. Now if none of you are going to see him, I am." He strode out of the room. Nigel and Kate exchanged a look, then followed him.

Jordan's voice called out after them, "They said 'one at a time'…"


	2. Obsessive Desire to Solve Crimes

A/N: Don't own 'em.

They had all showered. Which was a miracle in and of itself. What was more miraculous was that they had gotten Jordan to leave the hospital long enough to shower; at one point, Woody had to physically push her down the hallway away from Garrett's room, much to the amusement of a passing nurse.

Again at Garret's side, Jordan was playing and losing to him at poker. Woody and Nigel watched through the window, smiling at the scene before them, Jordan's dark hair standing out so starkly against the pastel yellow walls, and bright white sheets, Garret, though tired, growing smugger with each winning hand.

Woody inclined his head towards Garret, "Is he cheating?"

The inconsequential comment was one more brave attempt to make conversation in the unfriendly and grim hospital environment. Conversations tend to die under the harsh lights and surrounded by the medicinal smells of a hospital, but that didn't stop Woody from making the occasional attempt. All the silence and worry was getting to him.

"Hmmm?" Nigel was pulled from whatever thoughts he had been thinking. "Oh, Garret? Garret cheating? Definitely not." He thought a moment. "Probably not, anyway. And Jordan would probably have noticed if he was."

They lapsed into silence again. Woody tried again. "So, you and Kate, huh?"

"Yep, me and Kate. You know, she's really much nicer than she seems, worried sick about me. Won't leave me alone."

Silence again. An alarming idea had just dawned on Woody, though he tried to keep it from showing on his face. There had been a period of several hours when neither Nigel nor Kate had been at the hospital. "You two haven't…"

"Woodrow! I'm shocked that you would suggest it. But, if you must know…" Nigel paused, and then went back to watching Jordan shake her head as she lost yet again.

Woody waited as long as he could bear it. "Well? If I must know what?"

Nigel gave him a sly grin. "Oh well, nothing mate, sorry to bother you."

Woody narrowly bit back a groan.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Jordan pulled Woody roughly aside a short while later into an alcove alone the pristine hospital hallway. Mistaking her intention, and slightly surprised by her daring, he drew her toward him and kissed her enthusiastically. Her body stiffened for a brief second when he touched her, but she allowed herself to be drawn into the kiss, their first kiss free from fear. Free from fear of dying on a mountain. Free from fear of Garret dying.

Reluctantly she pulled away from him. Even more reluctantly he released her, a question in his eyes.

"I need you to do me a favor." She looked him in the eyes firmly as she said this, but there was a slight pleading quality to her voice.

Experience with Jordan made him ask before agreeing. "What kind of favor? Although if it involves going back to your place and finishing up that kiss then-"

The look she gave him! "Garret wants to see his daughter. He asked me for her. The hospital can't find her, I told her she was having trouble getting a plane ticket."

"And he believed you?"

"I need you to do me a favor," she repeated firmly.

"You want me to find her."

She nodded. "Thank you."

She smiled impishly and wrapped her arms back around him. He pulled her back up against him. One of her arms snuck up his back to entwine her fingers in his hair. His nose brushed hers, as he gently kissed first her forehead, then slowly traveled down her cheek to meet her expectantly parted lips.

He should have been more worried. He should have known really, as soon as Abby was mentioned that she would be hard to find. The only thought that passed through his mind was how unfortunate it was that in a building full of beds there wasn't a single one they could continue that kiss in. The nursing staff was bound to walk in on them just as things got interesting.

"I love you." It was barely a whisper in his ear.

"I love you, too."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Four hours later over at the precinct, Woody was beginning to regret that Jordan had talked him into this. Not that he wouldn't have done it anyway, Garret deserved to have his daughter by his side, but it was just easier to blame it on Jordan.

He had called everyone who could he thought possibly know Abby's whereabouts, of whom there were twelve. Five of them had stayed on the phone once he identified himself as a police officer. Two of those were angry former boyfriends. One was a friend of hers from high school who hadn't provided much information, but who spent fifteen or twenty minutes flirting with Woody over the phone. One was her former landlord, who she had apparently skipped out on two months ago and still owed three months rent. The last though, the last was interesting. The last was a self- proclaimed literary genius, who also claimed to be her current boyfriend. He also claimed to have reported Abby missing three days previously, when she failed to return home from work.

A double rap on the door, and Jordan walked in without waiting for an answer. He looked up from his notes in surprise; the only time she had left Garrett so far was to go home and shower. She looked tired, and slightly harassed.

"He wants to know where his daughter is. I told him that flights were all tied up and we were doing the best we could."

"He's not the only one who wants to know where she is. One of her former boyfriends…Alvaro Sanchez, threatened to 'kill that bitch' that apparently ran off with a fortune in his valuables. Alfons Dimmen, another boyfriend, also angry, said she did the same thing." He turned the pages of his notes slowly.

She came and leaned over his shoulder to read his notes. "Garret seemed to think she was turning her life around."

He turned to look back at her. "Her current boyfriend, who is apparently…oh right, writing the next great American novel, seems to think much the same thing."

"You found her current boyfriend?"

"They lived together in Miami. He doesn't know where she is. Reported her missing three days ago."

"The day we crashed in the mountains? Coincidence?"

"Maybe, maybe not."

"Hmmm…" She squatted down, wrapped her arms around him, and leaned her head against his back.

"I talked to the cops down in Miami, they're on it. As a personal favor to me."

"Why would they do you any personal favors?"

"I'm a likeable fellow." He paused then looked down at her. "Shouldn't you be with Garret?"

She sighed. "He kicked me out. Said he couldn't sleep properly with me watching over him, and that I looked dead on my feet. He actually had an orderly come show me the door."

Woody barely kept from laughing. From the look on her face she knew he was amused.

"You know Jordan, you don't have to go straight home. Miami PD are taking it from here, they don't need my help to find Abby. We could go out to Yang Chows first and I could drive you home…." His voice trailed off suggestively, he offered her a half smile.

"And then?"

He turned to face her and tilted her chin up to look at him. "I have waited six years for you, Jordan. There are things I…I can make you forget about Garrett for a while…" He let his voice trail off again.

She only smiled, and delicately raised an eyebrow.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

No one had missed that the morgue staff was pairing up, least of all Garret. They came in pairs to sit with him, though it was mostly Jordan. Over the next week she spent her nights on the couch, despite his best efforts to send her home to Woody, who he knew must be waiting for her. Except for those few hours she had spent with Woody she devoted her time to Garrett. Woody understood. Nigel and Kate showed up every few hours. Kate's expression dared anyone to comment. No one did. Bug and Lily showed up far less than anyone else, as the baby tended to make a scene.

The digital clock beside his bed showed that it was 2:47 in the morning in glowing blue letters. Light from the hallway illuminated Jordan's sleeping figure in her accustomed position on the couch, one arm used as a pillow. Garret gazed up at the ceiling willing himself to sleep, wondering what had woken him up. As if in answer, raised voices came from the hallway.

"Visitor's hours are over!" a matronly voice insisted. "Now really, you need to go now."

"No." It was a young woman's voice. "I want to see my father."

Footsteps approached his door. Garret craned to see, but no shadows on the blinds illuminated the scene outside. He knew that voice.

"I will be forced to call security!" the matronly voice advised seriously.

It sounded as though the young woman forced her way past though. He heard the clap of shoes on the floor, and a prolonged rustle of clothing that sounded like the older women had tried to hold the younger one back. His door creaked open a crack. Jordan stirred on the couch but did not wake.

"Now _really!"_ huffed the nurse, for that was who the matronly voice belonged to.

It was no use. Abby Macy, bearing flowers, strode through the door decisively and shut it in the nurse's face.


	3. Hold Dear to Your Parents

Jordan's hand crept up to rub her face, and her eyes opened, blinking with sleep induced confusion. She pushed herself up on one arm, and gazed over at Garret. He was sleeping peacefully, though he had thrown off most of his covers.

She got up quietly and crept over to his side. Smiling affectionately she drew the covers up to his chin and patted him gently on his sleeping head. Glancing over at the nightstand her eyes suddenly narrowed. A vase of flowers was there that she was sure had not been there when she fell asleep. No card revealed their origin. Surely no one would have visited while she was sleeping. She had fallen asleep long after visiting hours were over and had a nurse delivered them they should have had a card.

As she mused she heard rustling from the bed. She looked down, Garret was waking up. Slowly his eyes opened, peering first at the ceiling, then turning to look at the woman beside him.

"Good morning," she gave him a smile.

He groaned a little as he tried to sit up. "Abby was here…"

She was unclear if the comment was addressed to her, or a thought left over from a dream that had remained on his lips when he awakened.

"Abby was here." He repeated more firmly.

"No, Garret." She looked down at him with a worried frown. "It must have been a dream."

"She brought flowers."

Jordan looked down in shock at the flowers beside her. Garret's brows came together in thought.

"She said she couldn't stay…She said she…"

He sat upright, moved to complete some unknown action but Jordan held him back. He looked at her urgently.

"What did she say, Garret?" Her eyes held his, worry clouding her features. Worry that he would do something foolish and get hurt. Worry that this was all, despite the evidence of the flowers, some figment of his imagination.

"She said she was going. Couldn't stay." His tone became accusatory. "You said she couldn't get a plane ticket. You said…"

"I lied," admitted Jordan bluntly. She shrugged.

She kept a restraining hand on his shoulder. As if her admission relieved him, or perhaps because her expression told him he was going nowhere, he relaxed back onto his pillow. His eyes lost none of the accusation.

"Jordan…" Despite the weakness of his voice, there was a quality of threat, a familiar authoritative tone to his voice.

She had the decency to drop her gaze away from his as she admitted to him, "We couldn't find her. Couldn't contact her. No one knew where she was. We didn't want you to worry."

He exhaled with a "hmmm" noise. "She said she's leaving, Jordan. Said goodbye. Said not to find her." The expression on his face somehow betrayed his desperate hope that Jordan would take that as a challenge.

Her gaze was steady, but the look in her eyes was unreadable. If she was honest with herself, she was tempted to go beat some sense into Abby and then drag her back to face her father, whose hopes Abby had raised and then dashed yet again. Garret saw in the steely gaze Jordan's determination. But he didn't see the anger behind it.

xxxxxx

"Is Garret sure?" It was difficult for Woody to imagine that a missing person could burst into a hospital and leave a mysterious message with her father, all without waking Jordan.

"Yes." She nodded at him, worried. "Woody, he needs us to find her."

Nigel walked through the doors into Trace Evidence, trailed, as was now the norm by Kate. Jordan couldn't quite get used to the site of Kate following anyone around, and yet there she was.

"You called?" He asked as he came up to Jordan and Woody. His jacket hung loosely off one shoulder and gaped whenever he moved to reveal the broken arm underneath. None of them were supposed to be back at work. That had stopped none of them from rushing to the morgue when they received Jordan's call.

"I need you to tell me what these tell us. And if you could leave them intact that would be great, Garret wants them back intact." Jordan held out the flowers Abby had given Garret. "I need you to use them to find Abby."

"Not giving me much to work with are you, luv?" He reached for them, lifting his broken arm out of the sling slightly as he did so.

"Be careful with that arm or it will never mend." Kate held down the arm and reached for the flowers herself. Jordan relinquished them with an amused glance at Nigel, who rolled his eyes. "I hope you realize this is misuse of the morgue's equipment. I mean, it's not like she's in danger. She just doesn't want her father around. It's not exactly a crime."

Jordan made to snatch back the flowers, but Kate hastily pulled them out of reach.

"I didn't say I wasn't going to help. I was just making sure you knew we shouldn't be doing this. Now," said Kate as she bustled over to a computer, flowers clutched in one hand. "What do you advise doing first?'

xxxxxx

"'Flower's Galore,'" remarked Jordan sardonically, "inventive name for a florist."

Woody looked at the abundance of blossoms around him. Aisles and aisles of bouquets just like Garret's and the florist was located only a block from Mass General Hospital. He walked up to the register. A young blond cashier looked at him from behind the counter.

"Detective Woody Hoyt, Boston PD, I was wondering if you had seen this girl? She bought flowers here yesterday?" He held up Abby's portrait, shamelessly using his badge to legitimize his questions.

The girl shook her head. "I'm sorry sir, we get lots of people in here. I mean she might have shopped here. But with us being so close to the hospital and all… There's just so many customers. I don't remember her. And I was working all yesterday afternoon."

Jordan sighed in disappointment. "Do you mind if we look around?"

The girl shook her head. But there was nothing there. Underneath the racks holding flowers was nothing but a thin layer of dust that was undisturbed. There was nothing odd about the flowers. Jordan insisted on hunting between each bouquet, but finally gave up, claiming the fragrance was giving her a headache. Woody thanked the girl at the register, and followed Jordan out the door, and letting it shut behind them with a click, and the jingle of the bells on its doorknob.

xxxxxx

"We've run out of clues, luv." Nigel told her sympathetically when she returned to the morgue. "That was really the only lead we had."

"That can't be the end of it." She gestured in frustration at the flowers, and ran a hand through her hair in agitation. "There has to be something in these flowers that tells us where she is." Jordan turned to Kate in appeal. "There has to be something here."

"But there isn't anything here." Kate echoed Nigel's sentiment. "No mysterious powders, no fingerprints besides Abby's are on the wrapper. Nothing to tell us where she is. I'm sorry, but there just isn't anything. It's okay, Jordan. Garret'll be fine."

"Then it's a dead end." Jordan visibly sagged at the news.

"For now, anyway," Nigel nodded. He called out after her as she left the room. "Jordan, we can't make miracles."

xxxxxxx

She came quietly into the hospital room, and stood at the doorway for a moment watching the activity in the room before her. Lily and Bug had drawn two chairs up to the side of the bed, and Garret was propped up on pillows. All of their attention was focuses on the cooing child in a pink jumpsuit. Colored baby toys were strewn all over Garret's blanket. A stuffed blue rabbit had fallen to the ground.

Jordan stooped and picked it up. She smiled as she handed it to Bug, who accepted it with a smile of his own.

Jordan turned her smile on the tiny child. "Hey, Maddy."

A gurgle was the only response.

"So?" asked Garret, distracted from the baby by Jordan's presence. "Have you found my daughter?"

Bug and Lily turned questioningly to her.

She avoided their eyes, and ducked her head. A veil of her hair hid her face from view. "Do you want the good news or the bad news?"

"Give us the bad news first," said Bug quickly.

"The good news," said Lily at the same time.

"Garret?" asked Jordan.

"I'll take the good news. Now."

She hesitated a moment. "Well, the good news is that I brought you some very good coffee."

"And why's that?" He was unsure if this was really good news, or just Jordan's attempt to put a bright spin on things. It turned out to be the latter.

"Well," she hesitated again. "Because the bad news is that we can't find her. We hit a dead end. I'm sorry, Garret."

Bug sighed disappointedly. Lily's face fell at the news, and she hugged Maddy to her. Jordan saw none of this, she was watching Garret carefully for his reaction. He held his breath for a moment, before letting it out explosively.

"You're sure she's untraceable?" He questioned.

"Nigel couldn't find her. I'm so sorry, Garrett."

He nodded gruffly. "It's alright. You tried. It's okay. It's okay."

Jordan met his eyes and tried her best to smile reassuringly; internally seething that Abby could be so callous. It just wasn't right to treat your father like that.

The irony of the thought escaped her for the time being.


	4. PeopleInYourLifeLikeThatAreAGreatGift

A/N: This is to tide you over until I get back. It's about half the length of a normal chapter. Sorry.

Woody was unsure why Garret wanted to talk to him. In the week since Abby had disappeared they had been unable to gain any new information about where she could be. It all seemed pretty hopeless. Garret, however, had made an astonishing recovery, in spite of the bad news, and he was almost ready to be released (Jordan was fairly smug about that. She, and not the nursing staff, had been correct).Woody's shoes clicked down the now familiar hallway, and to Garret's door. He knocked and then entered.

"Hey."

"Woody." Garret greeted him coolly.

"You said you wanted to see me?" Woody questioned as he sat in the chair beside his bed.

Garret put down his newspaper, and got straight to the point. "You have got to get Jordan away from me. She's constantly mother-henning me. I move to get comfortable and she asks if she should call for a doctor! Do whatever it takes! Offer to strip for her! I don't care, but I need some peace and quiet!"

"Ah…"said Woody, "I think I can manage something."

"I never doubted that," said Garret with amusement.

Jordan came into the room just then. Woody stood up to her and steered her back out into the hallway, while she gaped at him in surprise. Before she could do anything, he drew her into that same old alcove by the custodian's closet and pulled her back to him. She smiled up at him. Gently he lifted her mouth to his with two fingers. The gentleness lasted only a moment; Jordan had ideas of her own and firmly pulled him down to her.

She didn't put up much fight when Woody suggested that they go to his apartment. If the parking lot had not been quite so exposed they would only have made it as far as his car.

xxxxxx

Garret checked himself out three days later, claiming to be fine. He told no one of this wanting, just for a few hours to be on his own. He took the bus home and, for the first time in weeks, stood in the elevator of his building, watching the illuminated numbers slowly climb as the elevator did.

The doors slid open with a "bing" and he walked to his front door, relaxing more and more as he did so. Slowly, he turned the key in the lock, feeling the metal press into his palm.

He stepped into his apartment, tossed his coat on a table near the door, and turned into the kitchen, when he jumped a little in shock. Jordan was leaning on his counter.

"Jordan!"

"Hi, Garret," she turned and smiled to him, trying to look like it was perfectly normal for her to be in his apartment.

"This is my apartment." He stated the obvious.

"You aren't supposed to be here," she said accusingly, "but I called the hospital and they said that you had check yourself out against their advice. I was in the neighborhood, so I stopped by."

"You just happened to call the hospital? And so you broke into my apartment" He moved towards her in a manner that would have been threatening had he not been so tired. Jordan was unimpressed.

"Yes. I did." She answered both questions. "Garret, you should still be in the hospital. You shouldn't be here." Her concern surfaced, and her eyes were fixed on him.

He moved to the refrigerator, but she blocked his path. "Garret. Why. Are. You. Here."

"I needed some privacy. I needed out!" He gave her a hard look. "I haven't had a moment to myself since we got off the mountain. So I came home to have one. And oh, look! Still haven't had one!" It was hard to keep his face stern, the situation was, he realized, mildly amusing.

She gave him an equally hard look, but her face mirrored none of his amusement. "Alright, I'm leaving." She slung a bag over her shoulder. "But if you do anything stupid, so help me, I'll… I'll call Maggie." She walked to the door. "By the way, Garret? There's not much in that fridge. I checked. I'll be back in a few hours with some food."

And she left him staring after her.

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Jordan pushed the almost empty metal cart up and down the aisles of the supermarket absently. Occasionally she stopped to pluck something off a shelf, but mostly she just let the normalcy of actually being in a brightly lit supermarket sink in. She probably should have just grabbed a basket, but she liked leaning on the cart. It was reassuring.

She was entirely content to do domestic chores, chores that had she not, only a couple weeks before, been stranded on a mountain, would have driven her up the wall. Surprised at how much even grocery shopping pleased her, she mused about attempting to cook something for dinner. Unthinkingly, she whirled through the aisles, surprising other less enthusiastic customers. Soaring down the aisle marked "feminine hygiene and pharmaceuticals," (she was out of soap and shaving cream), she misjudged the space between the shelves and a fellow shopper.

"Watch where you're going!" The shopper was understandably angry. She had been knocked back a few feet.

Trying to avoid a confrontation, and blushing at her unseemly display of supermarket enthusiasm, Jordan bent down to pick up the slim box that had been knocked out of the woman's hand. Then the voice registered.

"Kate?" Jordan looked up, rather shocked to find Kate in such a, well, human aisle. And standing in front of the…

Kate's gloved hand snatched the box from Jordan. She was torn between fury and embarrassment. This was not how her coworkers were supposed to find out; before she herself was sure. She bit her lip, one hand on her hip, one clutching the box.

Jordan was busy being dumbfounded. Kate and Nigel had…and Kate had…and…

"Don't say anything." Kate growled to cover her confusion, turned quickly, hair splaying out behind her, and left as quickly as she could.

Jordan stayed rooted to the spot. The coherent part of her mind prompted her to call out after Kate with the automatic response to such a box as Kate had carried.

"Congratulations?"

Kate did not respond. Slowly the blank look slid from Jordan's face and she smiled to herself, rolling the cart back and forth absently.


	5. Neither Rain, Nor Snow

Slowly they returned to work. Lily had returned early from what she was choosing to call "maternity leave" and not "semi-quitting" to help out in the time of crisis at the morgue. Not, as everyone had pointed out to her, that she needed to, there were plenty of people at the morgue who were perfectly capable of handling things.

To no ones surprise, an unusually subdued Kate followed next, with Jordan hard on her heels. Nigel, arm still in a sling, would have followed next, had it not been for a memorable scene with Kate in front of the elevator, in which, with a display of her old spark, she unequivocally, quite loudly, and very publicly sent him home.

To Jordan's obvious dismay Garret slipped back to work in the following week. His reentry had been so quiet that it had taken a full two hours before Kate discovered him back in his office, hunched over a stack of autopsy reports, and looking rather pleased with himself. His pleasure was short-lived; Jordan discovered that while he was work it was easier to keep tabs on him. She began to check in on him every few hours, and the mother-hennning had resumed.

Bug was the last to return (unless one counted Nigel, who had been staying at home and doing work his sympathetic coworkers snuck him ever since he had had the fear of Kate put in him). The difficulty had been the baby-sitter, with Lily at work, Bug had been watching Maddy, and it was with a certain reluctance that he gave her over to the baby sitter that morning. A trifle of that reluctance showed as he hesitated to exit the elevator that morning.

With a deep breath he was back in the building, back where he belonged. His shoes clicked comfortably on the cold floor of the morgue, and the sound echoed between the well-lit glass windows of the offices. As he walked, he unthinkingly unbuttoned his coat and hung it over his arms. It was a few moments before he noticed that he had automatically directed himself to Garret's office. He knew, of course, that Garret was back at work, but he had not seen him for a week or two, what with his preoccupation with the baby.

When he saw Garret through the office window, Bug understood a bit of Jordan's paranoia. Garret looked frail. The purple bags sagging under his eyes were not concealed by his glasses, and his perpetual stubble was shaggier than normal, in what might have been a failed attempt to hide that his cheeks were hollower and his cheek bones more prominent. The horrible red plaid shirt, Garret's surprising idea of "comfort clothing", was too big and reinforced his skeletal appearance. He was leaning back in his chair, tilted slightly to one side and leafing through a manila folder slightly aimlessly.

As Bug approached the door, Garret looked up from his folder, smiled and beckoned him in.

"Bug, good to see you!" The voice seemed somehow inappropriate. It implied that if Garret had been standing, he would have slapped Bug heartily on the back to reassure Bug, that he, Garret, was indeed in the best of health. Without that gesture, the entire phrase rang false.

"Thought I should probably come back while I still had a job," Bug said with forced humor.

xxxxxx

In the woven wire trash-can, carefully buried under a coffee cup and an empty chips bag was the slim box that Jordan had bought after Kate left the store. Watching Kate leave, she had stood thoughtfully for a moment, and then, after carefully checking either end of the aisle, she too had quickly grabbed a box from the shelf.

With her typical luck, Jordan had gotten one of the less discrete clerks, who had loudly wished her "Good luck!" Though which result would count as good luck, Jordan had still not decided. It had taken her two weeks to get up the courage. And in typical Jordan fashion, she brought the test to work, where Woody, her frequent nighttime visitor would be less likely to find it until she was ready.

Jordan's pencil rapped arrhythmically on her desk as she thumbed through the file of reports she had stolen from Garret's desk to lighten his work load. The fact that her authority didn't extend to reviewing autopsy reports had failed to bother her. Humming softly, she turned the page, not really reading anything. The egg timer on her desk next to the pencil mug hadn't gone off yet, but ticked steadily in the background.

xxxxxx

Bug met Kate in Autopsy two over the body of an ex-airplane pilot, who had ironically died by fault of the force he had so often defied. Sometime after he fell off the roof he was reshingling and probably about the time he had hit the ground gravity had finally won. The possibility was that someone had pushed him (his wife, Bug thought, the pilot had not spent much time at home during his years of flying). The reality, lying on the cold metal, limbs now straightened, was undeserving of the irony and humor that the morbidly inclined could find in his death.

Kate glanced up from her work. A lock of hair came unpinned and fell across her face, but as she was wearing bloody gloves, and arm deep in pilot the best she could do was shake her head irritably. "You check in with Garret?" She asked curtly.

"Yeah. Jordan was right."

"About what?" She wasn't really paying attention to him, she had refocused on her careful autopsy.

"He looks like hell."

She looked up, nodded, but peculiarly she was smiling a little. Carefully she extricated herself from the body, lay down her instruments, and fixed him with an amused stare.

"Has she filled you in on the conspiracy?" Apparently this was what she found so humorous.

"The what?" Bug suspected that whatever it was, it was not just Jordan. Nigel must have something to do with this. Where there was a conspiracy, there also must be Nigel.

"She and Nigel-" Bug nodded to himself, smug, "- have developed a plan. Basically they've decided to bring back Abby, fix Garret's family and love lives, and 'cause those take a while, they've been stealing his work and doing it for him." She paused, looking slightly distasteful but also vastly amused, "It's actually quite a bit more complicated than that. You'll have to ask Nigel for the details. But practically the whole morgue's on board."

Slightly at sea, Bug ignored most of this statement, and fixed on the most outrageous part. "Fix his love life?"

"Mostly just Nigel. Jordan's more on the find Abby bit. Everybody's been doing most of Garret's work."

Made defensive by the derisive tone in her voice, Bug replied slightly more caustically than he might have. Even being trapped on a mountain with her hadn't totally cleared her for Bug. "Everybody but you? Just-get-her-a-home-nurse Kate?"

Her hurt look made him instantly regret that statement. Her lips pursed, and she hesitated for a moment, before straightening up before him and taking off her latex gloves with a snap.

"Look," her tone was sharp and she locked eyes with him, "I didn't know Jordan then. There was no reason for me to be in the rotation. Further more, she probably would have been better off with an in home nurse. Secondly, while I do not believe in miraculous changes in personality, I might have thought that you would have found it in yourself to tolerate my presence in the morgue by now."

She carefully did not mention the mountain. Or that she was in what other people might call a relationship with his best friend. Especially if said other people had known about the slim box she snatched back from Jordan.

After holding his gaze a moment longer, she stalked out of the room shoving the doors open in front of her and leaving them swinging behind her.

xxxxxx

Garret had not forgotten about Abby. Or stopped worrying. Losing himself in his work was not working, as his appearance testified. Drinking in his current state was thankfully not an option. And his coworkers didn't feel the intensity of worry that he did.

When he rarely had mentioned Abby, only Jordan hadn't tried to placate him. He was fairly certain that was only because Jordan was single-minded enough to recognize that the only thing that would placate Garret was Abby herself. But she didn't want to find Abby for Abby, she wanted to find Abby for Garret.

It wasn't the same. At this thought he slumped in his chair, oblivious to the light and feeling of health that pervaded his office (Lily and Jordan had cleaned it, and Lily had hidden herbs about to lend it a pleasant smell). He was tempted to reach for the coffee steaming on his desk, but at that moment the movement seemed impossible. He was too tired.

An old song was playing in his phonograph. Unthinkingly he began to hum, half to drown out his worry and half simply because it was a damn good oldie. He sang along quietly, the characteristic husk of his voice catching in his throat and producing a slight imprecision of sound that harmonized with itself.

Woody, walking by with coffee in one hand and his coat over his arm, paused to look in the window. To reassure himself that if Garret had it in him to sing along with the radio then things really were going back to normal.

xxxxxx

When the egg timer finally went off, Jordan took a deep breath and reached in her desk drawer, blindly groping and ignoring the fact that she really hadn't opened it wide enough. Hampered by this she fumbled as she pulled it out of the desk. With another deep breath she held it up to the light, not bothering to check if anyone was watching.

She let out her breath with a sigh of disappointment that surprised herself. For those two weeks, there had always been that niggling fear in the back of her mind that it might be positive. And yet…

It could have been so exciting. So right.

It was all too much. Nearly dying and then nearly dying again. Garret. Abby. Kate probably being what Jordan had almost been.

Not being pregnant.

xxxxx

When Woody stopped by with coffee a few minutes later (she'd known he would, timed it that way to tell him the good news) she was quietly looking at but not through the window, still clutching the test in her hand.


	6. Hot Damn!

A/N: Okay, so firstly I do not own anything Crossing Jordan. Secondly, this is just a warning for those of you who will be disappointed how Bug and Lily pan out in this chapter, Bug isn't coming over that well. But he will have plenty of time to make up for this. Overly defensive warning is now over. I'm so glad people are actually reviewing. Enjoy.

xxxxxx

Woody knew what the test meant of course, but his mouth opened before he could stop it.

"What's wrong?"

She turned around startled, apparently she hadn't noticed him coming in. When she saw him, she held out the test. Her mouth twitched as she tried not to cry and after a long pause, she said finally, "I screwed up again."

Woody was still rooted to the spot on the floor where he had been standing. After another long pause, he took three determined steps around her desk, and set the coffee gently next to her. Deliberately he laid his jacket next to it, and while Jordan watched apprehensively, he got down on one knee.

"Jordan Cavanaugh, I love you. Would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?" It really wasn't the best-worded proposal, and if Jordan had been thinking quicker she'd have seen the misunderstanding earlier and headed it off.

Refusing to meet his eyes and with one tear tickling down her cheek slowly, she told him. "Woody…when I said I screwed up…" her voice caught, " I mean… I'm not pregnant. So…"

Woody's face, looking up at her, mirrored the disappointment she had felt a moment earlier. But he did not rise off the one knee.

"Jordan," he look incredulously up at her, startled past his disappointment, "did you want a baby?" His voice was tender, and held a note of wonder.

A little scared by what this all meant, what it could mean, and still not meeting his eyes, she nodded slowly, and a lock of hair fell in front of her eyes. She brushed it away absently.

"Jordan," he repeated, dimpling slightly, though for the life of her she couldn't understand what was so amusing. "Jordan, it's okay. We can try again."

This startled her into looking at him. "What?"

"We can try again. But you still haven't answered my question." He tilted her face towards him with a gentle hand, carefully brushed away the tears with his calloused thumb, and forced her to meet his gaze. "Will you marry me?"

"I'm not pregnant." She repeated this without much force, and she did not struggle to get away as he had feared she might.

"I know."

"Isn't this moving just a bit fast?" she asked pathetically. Her lips were trembling as she brought the tears under control.

"We've known each other for years. I'd say it was moving a bit slow." He was not at all off-put by her protests. It was normal Jordan behavior.

"But we were angry at each other for most of them!" She protested.

Patiently he answered her. "Are we angry at each other now?"

"Well…no…" She squirmed in an attempt to escape his blue eyes. "Shouldn't you have asked my father first?" It was added desperately.

"Do you know where he is?" His dimples deepened.

"Fine. Garret then."

His mouth twitched too, but not with repressed tears. His voice became lighter. "How's this, I'll ask him afterwards just to make sure. I'll tell him you said yes with the condition of him allowing it." He became serious again. "Jordan, will you marry me?"

Her eyes panicked for a moment, and her voice seemed not to be working. "Yes."

Before she could do anything stupid, he pulled her out of her rolling office chair, down onto the floor with him. Her knees hit the floor painfully, and the chair was sent rolling back towards the window. She remained silent, and looked at him, vulnerable. With both of them kneeling behind her desk, his hand pulled her head, and most importantly, her lips towards his. Then he kissed her seriously. Her reaction was instantaneous, and it was several long moments before they paused for breath.

When they left her office a short while later, Jordan was still blushing and quite a bit bewildered. Woody looked smug, as he steered her out of her door, and with his arm around her and her head on his shoulder, he gently brought her to Garret's office.

xxxxx

Lily was ecstatic at the news. Bug had won some long forgotten office pool. Kate smiled in a corner, and Nigel had to excuse himself to get some fresh air to stop from publicly crying. Even Garret managed to come out of his funk long enough to grant them his sincerely happy permission to marry. Most of the morgue was congregated in the hallway, chattering, hugging the couple, and, if they didn't actually know Jordan that well personally, simply taking the excuse to not work.

Garret slipped quietly up behind Jordan who was talking to an enthusiastic and overly earnest Emmy, and beginning to doubt the wisdom of going public so quickly. He gently tapped her on the shoulder.

"There's one thing I don't get," he said, face slightly shadowed.

"What?" Jordan stiffened immediately with fear that he had found something wrong. She drew herself up and readied herself to defend her sudden decision to marry Woody.

"When have you ever needed my permission for anything?" Garret's face lightened momentarily with the joke. Jordan's face lost the worried expression as she realized that yet again, Garret had gotten to her.

The punch she gave him was slightly harder than she had intended. But he walked away smiling, and managed to hold the smile until he was safely in his office again, listening to the buzz of happy conversation in the hallway.

There was a typed note on his desk. As he read it, what was left of the smile slid from his face.

xxxxxx

Bug pulled Lily roughly aside a few minutes later. He ignored her protests and dragged her through the crowded hall to her own office. Once inside he shut the door behind him and locked it. Lily's face promised wrath.

Quickly, to forestall the anger, he asked her desperately, "Will you marry me?"

"What?" It had taken her entirely by surprise.

"Lily, I love you, and I… love you…and I want to be with you forever." His face was pleading.

She looked simply confused, crossing her arms in front of her. Her mouth opened and closed several times helplessly.

"I have a ring and everything…" He mumbled as he dug inside his coat pockets and after a short search drew out a ring box.

Lily regained control of her vocal cords. "Bug, Woody and Jordan got engaged today-"

"I know!" He told her earnestly.

She threw up her arms exasperatedly. "I hardly think it's appropriate, or might I say, flattering, that you proposed on the same day. It's hardly the most original thought you've ever had! Couldn't you at least wait for our own day?"

Bug's face fell a bit, and he nodded to himself in admission of defeat. "Okay, look, Lily, I can explain." He stepped forwards and drew her towards him; only once she had relaxed in his hug did he gently kiss the top of her head and continue. "Its just that we've been together longer. And I thought, that well, we should get married first…" It sounded pathetic as soon as it left his lips.

Surprisingly, she looked up at him and smiled a bit.

He pressed his advantage. "I mean, look at us, we're the most functional of the morgue couples. Jordan and Woody, well, they've been oscillating between sleeping together, complete denial, and trying to kill each other for years. And Nigel and Kate… the fact that they can get into bed together without killing each other first is nothing short of a miracle."

Her face registered shock. "They've slept together?" There was a moment's embarrassed pause, as they both considered this alarming idea.

Lily shook her head irritably as she recalled the main issue. She took a step away from him and looked him firmly in the eyes. "Bug, just because you want to be the first happy couple…" She looked at him harder. "You're actually jealous aren't you?" He nodded sheepishly. "You're jealous that they beat you to it. You must have been planning it for months." He nodded again, ashamed, embarrassed, and feeling generally foolish.

He had had it all planned out for months. He was going to ask her next Friday, by the ocean with glasses of red wine in their hands, while Maddy was at home with the sitter, and after both of them had an expensive meal. This really wasn't the way he'd intended it to go.

She stepped forward and kissed him firmly, but kept her lips firmly closed to any ideas his tongue might have had.

She pulled back sharply, and smiled again kindly, and lovingly. The corners of her eyes crinkled slightly. "Yes."

"What?" he asked momentarily confused, and as thrown off balance as she had been by his question.

"I'll marry you."

"Really?"

"If it means that much to you, if I mean that much to you. You certainly mean that much to me. Our relationship has been dysfunctional enough for me not to expect a perfect proposal." He looked simply confused. "It took you years to get the nerve to tell me you loved me. It took me years to figure out I loved you. And once we got that figured out, on our first date I told you I was pregnant." She smiled shyly and held out her left hand to him.

He fumbled to open the ring box.

"But, how about we save this news for another day, hmm? I don't need to steal Jordan's glory."

This time, the kiss was entirely open to tongues.

xxxxx

Lily needn't have bothered with that request. As Bug gently slipped the ring on her finger, Kate was passing by in the hallway. The impromptu party was dying down and people were slowly returning to work. Kate frowned as she began to recognize an alarming trend.

She cornered Nigel in Autopsy a few minutes later. He looked up surprised as she entered, and his smile of greeting was unreturned.

She waited until she was standing in front of him, and looking as threatening as she could with her hands placed firmly on her hips.

"Under no circumstances are you to propose to me today. Is that clear?" One eyebrow was raised, and despite the absurdity of the order, her face and tone were entirely serious.

"Uh…" Nigel was taken aback, a look of shock on his face. "I wasn't planning on it?"

"Good." And Kate strode back out of Autopsy, leaving Nigel blinking with confusion in her wake.

xxxxx

For Garret the day was no longer anything to celebrate, as the chatter quieted down in the hallway outside his office, he stood and stared at the note in his slightly trembling hand.

The note on Garret's desk read simply: "We have her. Your daughter." It was unsigned.


	7. TheExciting Field of Medical Examination

Xxxxx

"These people, they will go to the wall for you if you let them."

(Garret- Jump, Push, Fall).

xxxxx

Nigel was by nature not a violent man. That said, he was being pushed to the edge.

The test he was running was, well, a last resort. Something he'd made up after test after test had failed to tell him something that he hadn't known before he ran it. And going to Garret without anything new wasn't an option.

He was bent over with one hand on the worktable, the other occasionally ruffling his hair, or banging the table with the eraser of the pencil that he was currently chewing on. In reaction to the seriousness of his labor, and his devotion to finding answers, he had rolled up both his sleeves with typical Nigel flair. But that had been several hours ago. Before the forensics had failed him.

He had begged, pleaded, and provided the Boston PD crime lab with more than ample evidence of his brilliance to no avail. Jordan had finally gone in and came back with the note. The note that was resisting every kind of analysis Nigel knew.

The machine beeped at him, and the screen changed.

"Damn."

Xxxxxx

Kate's day wasn't going any better. She was at that moment trailing behind Jordan, past the crime scene tape, the reporters, and the cops. Her (new) car had broken down, and so she had been forced to ride with Jordan to the crime scene, an experience that had left her with a new appreciation of road rage. Kate had been known from time to time to exhibit some angry characteristics, yes, but she had never seen Jordan at full force. Unfortunately, Kate had good reason to fear that Jordan at full force added to morgue van was going to equal Medical Examiner Pancake.

Jordan was furious for unspecified reasons. Her anger manifested itself in her pointed steps, the sharp click of her heels on the cracking, pot-holed, and gray parking lot asphalt. She had pulled her hair back into a loose bun, and her bag was clutched in her hand and she identified herself to the police officers with a crisp voice that brooked no argument.

Jordan had never felt so useless in her life, the note was Nigel's business now (not that he had learned anything besides that the paper was HP and the pen, Bic), and as he failed to produce results it became apparent that the bullying she had done at the crime lab hadn't accomplished much besides relieving her anger. There was no body for her to find clues on, and more importantly, no way to help Garret.

Kate, who was used to being the angry one, was oddly silent as she followed in Jordan's wake.

The officer at the scene was Woody; he knelt beside the body of a young woman, warily watching Jordan's approach.

The woman had been stripped naked to reveal her well-proportioned body, and the pile of ash next to her seemed to answer the question of what had happened to her clothes. She was sprawled at an awkward angle across the faded yellow lines of the parking space, and the right side of her head lay in a puddle that had collected in one of the jagged potholes. Wet tendrils of hair stuck at odd angles across her eye and nose. She must have been wounded in that side of the head, because the puddle was now tinged red. Red-brown droplets led from the puddle to the girl's pale torso, across which was scrawled "Mad Max" in blood that had not yet dried.

Jordan crouched beside Woody, acknowledging his murmured "Hi" with a brief nod. Her face suffused momentarily with warmth and her posture had relaxed, but as she turned her attention again to the body her eyes and mouth hardened once more.

Kate had wasted no time in beginning to photograph the body, a task that she normally would have handed off to an underling, in this case Jordan. Something about Jordan's face warned her that this would not go well today. She mused that the baby was making her soft. She rationalized that pissing Jordan off would only lead to Jordan telling the entire morgue exactly where she had run into Kate, and therefore she was only being moderately considerate because Jordan held something over her.

Kate pointedly ignored the fact that she actually believed none of this.

Woody watched Jordan's anger mount as she surveyed the body. Wanting to get it over with he consulted his notes.

"Some kids who like to skate here found her about an hour ago. We assume her clothes are in that pile of ash there…"

Jordan had lifted the woman's head out of the puddle, and was gently probing a nasty wound on the side of her head with gloved fingers.

"Single shot. High caliber. Close range. Execution style. One entrance wound, and the bullet is probably still in there, because I don't see an exit wound. But that doesn't make sense, the bullet should have gone through and through at this range…." She paused to make a closer inspection. Kate came around and peered over the side of her shoulder.

"Those marks on the edge of the wound," Kate looked surprised, "It looks like the murderer, 'Mad Max' or whoever he is, dug in there with something. To get the bullet out probably. It didn't go through and through because it wasn't very high caliber at all, it just looks that way because the hole got enlarged."

xxxxx

Pleading a full bladder, Kate left trace at the earliest opportunity, followed by Jordan's knowing smile, and went searching for Nigel. She cornered him in the break room in front of Bug, Lily, and some new guy called Terrence (who was, Kate thought, the kind of man who should never have grown a beard) and called Nigel into her office. Seething at her presumption he followed her out of the room, down the hall, and into her office.

"What the hell?" He cried out when the door was finally closed behind them with a snap.

She refused to lose her cool, but she had put up with angry Jordan all morning. She was not about to put up with angry Nigel, too. For a moment she wavered, then she pressed her lips.

"Sit down."

"Why?"

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "Just do it Nigel." It was a threat.

"No." Why must he always be so childish?

She did roll her eyes this time. "Nigel, just sit down."

"Why?"

She finally snapped. "Because I don't want to pick you up off the floor after I tell you I'm pregnant."

His voice was quiet. "You're…pregnant…" The question in his voice was barely audible over the shock.

"Yes." She searched his face for some sign of how he was going to react.

He didn't look at her, but twisted a pencil in his hands. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, Nigel." She responded slightly curtly, placing heavy emphasis on the first word. Softening a bit at his lost expression she walked over to him. He sat down on the edge of her desk with the air of a balloon that has been suddenly deflated.

"How long?"

"A little over a month."

The look he gave her was incredulous. "And you knew?"

She sighed patiently. "Look, Nigel, I realize that you aren't a doctor, but you must have realized by now that with ah unprotected sex there's bound to be…" she waved her hands a bit as she searched for the word "…consequences. I should have known it was bound to happen."

Nigel gaped at her. She may claim that it was a scientifically informed guess, but from that point forward he secretly considered it to be one more piece of evidence supporting the idea of "women's intuition."

xxxxx

Jordan's small bathroom was warm, steamy and smelled strongly of a mixture of bubbliscious and new shoes. This was the direct result of the pink foamy shaving cream she had smeared liberally over her legs. Something she had regretted instantly.

"Buy the cheapest shaving cream they sell," she had told Woody when he offered to grocery shop. "I don't need anything fancy."

It was a philosophy that had gotten her into trouble before; most memorably the juniper-scented, holiday-themed crap she had bought on sale sometime in January. But "Raspberry rain" had surpassed them all. Come to think of it, Jordan wasn't really sure she knew what raspberries were supposed to smell like. Not like this certainly.

In the safety and heat of her bathroom, seated on the edge of her bathtub, she allowed her mind to wander as she brought the razor in smooth straight strokes up her lower leg, and over her calf muscle, where it rasped slightly.

The body had been utterly without useable trace. Mainly because it appeared that someone had hosed her down, which explained the puddles in the parking lot. What remained unclear was how anyone could take a body to an abandoned parking lot, hose it down (the manner of hosing was also unclear, Bug suggested a self contained pressure sprayer), sign it "Mad Max" and then get the hell out without anyone noticing. The water used on her, Nigel determined, was from a nearby stream and had been stored in a plastic container. More useless knowledge that got them nowhere.

And they still had no idea who she was.

Jordan switched to the other leg.

Woody had left out several important facts about the skaters who had found the body, the most important of which was that they had an average age of eight. Woody had gently brought them in to the conference room of the morgue; it wasn't standard procedure, but he feared that the interrogation room down at the precinct would be a lot worse. Eight year old boys, he later explained, were not equipped to deal with bodies, let alone interrogation rooms, but had been delighted with the extra long ride in his squad car, and, though slightly traumatized, fascinated to see where "their" body had gone.

The most coherent of the boys was a sturdy dark haired boy named Avery. Seated in the leather chair in the conference room, legs dangling as he sipped from the hot chocolate Jordan had made him, he had explained that they often went to the lot to skate; their mother's couldn't see them there, and so they didn't have to wear helmets (Jordan had made a mental note to discuss head trauma with him at a later date).

He spoke with the whimsical punctuation of youth that places pauses where there would normally be flow and runs roughshod over such unimportant conventions as commas and periods, occasionally stopping briefly for a giant gulp of air and then continuing, undaunted, on. His style of speaking reflected in his body; he was restless in his chair and constantly shifting position.

During the part of the story where he described finding the body he was still, and the pauses were more frequent. They had nearly skated over her before they saw her.

They had seen no one at the scene. And when they had realized she was dead they had run like bats out of hell.

Jordan hummed softly as she showered off her legs and rinsed her razor.

Xxxx

Nigel was thoughtful the next day, twice he nearly ran into new-guy Terrence in the hallway, he clearly paid no attention in morning meeting, and he had lost a ballistics report. None of which pleased Garret at all. Already stressed from the lack of progress finding his daughter, he lost his patience in trace when Nigel inadvertently dropped a tray of instruments on Jordan, who was bending over "Mad Max's" body for what had to be the fiftieth time.

"Dammit, Nigel!" Garret roared, rubbing his scalp, "What the hell is going on with you?"

Jordan popped up from helping Nigel pick up the tools, Nigel's black haired head followed more slowly.

"I've just had a lot on my mind," he mumbled as he set down the tray of tools.

Jordan eyed him consideringly. "Have you had a talk with Kate recently?" She asked, amusement in her eyes.

"Yes!" He stared at her. "You knew? She told you? How did you know?"

Garret was staring at the two of them like they had both grown an extra head, "Is anyone going to tell me what's going on?" His voice held an edge.

"No." Nigel responded, still focused on Jordan. "How did you know?"

She smiled at him archly, "Women's intuition.".


	8. Why God Created Tequila

About a month later:

Woody slumped at his desk, staring glumly up at the dartboard Jordan had given him what seemed so long ago. He wasn't quite sure where all the darts were. One still clung tenaciously to the dark cork, and another was stuck in the wall above it. Another was in his pen drawer, there were others still scattered amongst the stacks of papers on his desk that totally obscured his in tray, and on the slightly dusty (and because he had forgotten to close it when the rain started, damp) windowsill.

He looked up as the door creaked slightly open and then clicked gently closed. Jordan smiled slightly as she met his eyes. Her hair was wet and curling gently from the rain, a piece of it was stuck horizontally. She plucked it distastefully off using two fingers of her free hand. The other precariously carried a plastic covered file folder, and a cheap black umbrella that was close to falling to the floor with a wet smack.

"Hey Woods," she greeted him as she lay the wet umbrella down by the door, oblivious to what the wet umbrella would do to the wood of the door frame it leaned on. She laid the file folder in front of him, and he saw when he glanced at it that small drops of water that had beaded up on its surface were running down onto his wood desk. He considered mopping it up with something, but it involved too much effort.

"The evidence Nigel pulled on the second "Mad Max" body."

She noticed his mood, and one of her well-defined eyebrows arched into a question mark. "What's up? Besides the obvious." She peeled her wet overcoat off to reveal a somber blue top and hung it over the back of a chair.

"We haven't found her," he rubbed his face.

Jordan knew who he meant. These days "her" almost always meant Abby.

"I mean, you know as well as I do, she's been gone, what two months? The chances of finding her, even dead are…"

Jordan finished his thought grimly. "Exponentially less than good." She sat down on the edge of his desk chair, and leaned her warm, but still slightly wet body against him. He leaned back, grateful for her presence.

"I love you." It wasn't clear which one of them said it first.

She nestled her wet hair against him. He stiffened slightly at the cold, but gently snaked an arm around her.

"Poor Garret."

Xxxx

Garret was not holding up.

Lily and Jordan had prudently removed all the alcohol from his office, and Jordan, who somehow still had the key to his apartment, had done the same at his home. They were making what they thought were secret daily checks to make sure he still had none. On some level the lengths they were going to care for him reassured him. But mostly he was angry.

Besides there were still bars. They couldn't stop him from going to bars. But somehow they always showed up when he was drunk and firmly drove him home. It wasn't fair that she had a cop as a fiancée.

Angry and depressed.

Which was why Lily had called Stiles. The bald little leprechaun of a man was sitting across the conference table from Garret, humming off key, and twirling his customary black hat between his fingers. Occasionally he would give Garret an appraising look and then go back to twirling his hat.

Neither had spoken for at least ten minutes. Garret was wrapped in his little ball of misery, worry, and general anger that had been simmering these last months.

Xxxx

Although the shades were drawn in the conference room, a small crowd had gathered silently outside of one of the windows. Lily, who had been unable to find a sitter for Maddie, was rolling the stroller back and forth across the floor, making the brightly colored shapes suspended from an arch above the carriage swing, much to the delight of the cooing baby. Those around her were less amused; Lily's attention was focused more on what was going on inside the conference room, and less on whose toes the carriage was running over.

Jordan bit back a curse, as the stroller crushed her toes again, and leaped from the window, hopping momentarily on one foot. Nigel quickly put out his hands to stop her from crashing into him.

"Have they said anything yet?" He asked Lily in an exaggerated whisper.

She shook her head and mouthed "No."

Jordan, except for the fact that she was rubbing her foot, returned to the posture of concern that had pervaded her features for the past two months. The corners of her mouth turned down, and the lines that had been threatening for years to appear at the corner of eyes were apparent. The bags that had been under her eyes when they were waiting for Garret in the hospital lurked menacingly, as if the slightest thing could case tem to erupt.

Nigel eyed her sympathetically. He too showed signs of the long hunt for Abby. Of all the morgue staff, he had been the most directly in the case; badgering BPD for the evidence they had already run, in order to rerun it himself. Only once had he found something they had missed. His usually immaculate shirts were wrinkled in spite of Kate's frequent protests, and he too had developed bags under his eyes and crow's feet.

Kate came at that moment into the hallway, slightly out of breath, and looking out of place for her excitement and enthusiasm.

"I just got a letter in the mail."

"Good for you," the snark was absent from Nigel's voice, it was just a reflex now.

"From Mad Max."

That got their attention. Jordan snapped up from rubbing her foot so fast that some of her hair fell out of it's tightly controlled bun. Lily stopped rolling the stroller (an action that was met with immediate and vocal protest by her child).

Motioning for them to follow her, and looking pained at the screams emitting from the baby carriage, Kate led the way into trace.

The others hastily followed her.

Xxxx

Lying innocuously on the lab bench in trace was a piece of paper. Kate pointed at it triumphantly.

"Nigel, could you tell us what the kidnapping note was written in and on?"

Curious, he obliged. "Bic black grip stic pen, available at every stationary store between here and Taiwan, and so mass produced that the production number is virtually useless. All I could find out was that this batch was distributed in Massachusetts. The paper? HP plain quality white printing paper. They never vary the components so its impossible to tell what batch it's from. Frankly it doesn't matter, because HP paper is sold almost as widely as the Bic pen."

Kate's mouth quirked in a slight smile, and Nigel gave her a half bow. "So if I told you I got a note from Mad Max in the same materials…"

"I would say you peaked my interest."

Jordan leaned in to look at the paper. She looked up again quickly, disappointed. "The handwriting's different." She had stared at the kidnapping note long enough to know she'd recognize the handwriting if she saw it.

Nigel leaned down and peered over Jordan's shoulder. "No luv, it isn't! It just looks that way!"

They looked at him expectantly. But before he could say anything, Jordan let out a gasp of recognition.

Xxxxx

The note read:

Do you believe there's such a thing as the perfect murder?


	9. Quicksand

"Oliver." Nigel repeated.

Jordan nodded. "Little innocent 'who me? I didn't kill anybody' Titleman."

"Shouldn't he still be in jail though?" Lily pointed out sensibly. I mean, the Wizard of Oz creepy stuff got him sent away for a long time. Didn't it?"

Kate looked mildly confused. And impatient.

Jordan headed that one off. "Serial killer with a 'passion for forensics'. Obsessed with the 'perfect murder'. Likes having Garret's attention."

Kate looked down at the note. "I'd say he's got it."

Jordan moved to look at the handwriting again. "What were you saying about the handwriting, Nige?"

Lily bustled her way through to look at the note impatiently. "Guys! You're missing the obvious here!" She paused dramatically. "Oliver is in prison. He can't possibly be doing this!"

"I seem to remember he was always in police custody when his victims died, too. This is normal for him." Nigel waved aside Lily's point negligently, peering closer to study the handwriting. "He was smart enough to use all capitals on this note, and all lower case on the other, but the o's are the same either way. And the s's, p's, too. All that changes is where they are in relation-"

Kate was nonplussed. "He's in jail Nigel."

"No, he's not." While Nigel had been talking Jordan had gone over to the computers. She pointed at the screen triumphantly, unsure whether to smile or cry because her hunch had paid off. "He's been released."

Lily was stunned. Kate was still confused and getting angrier by the moment. Nigel was incoherent,

Of all the questions bombarding Nigel's mind, the only one he managed to voice was the most obvious. "Why?"

"Why would anyone release that little bastard?"

Jordan scrolled down the page in the police database to find the answer to his question. Her lips were compressed, with fury or concern it was unclear. All that was certain was that Jordan Cavanaugh was not pleased. Before she had read to the point where it detailed Oliver's release, something that should have taken her about five seconds, but was taking far longer because of Kate's loud demands to be filled in in the background, Bug rushed through the swinging doors, still dressed in bloody scrubs, carrying a scalpel and looking as if he had just come out of the middle of an autopsy.

"Dr. Macy collapsed talking to Stiles. He's been taken to Mass General."

None of them had the chance to say anything before he rushed back out the door. Jordan, shoving Kate rudely out of the way, was the first to follow him.

Xxxxx

Despite the fact that she overtook Bug en route to the elevators, and peeled recklessly out of the staff parking garage, Jordan was not the first one to be at Garret's bedside.

Slightly out of breath, Jordan slammed open the curtains around Garret's bed, trailed by several nurses and a doctor who were all protesting ineffectively that she was not allowed to do this.

A slim brunette in a tan well-pressed skirt suit was bent over the bed, obviously in the middle of tucking Garret in better. She looked up sharply as Jordan entered the room

Swinging the curtains shut behind her in the face of all the doctors, Jordan felt her face betray her shock. "René?"

"Jordan." The DA greeted her shortly.

Jordan's mouth opened and closed a few times before she finally spoke. "No offense René," she began in a voice that belied the phrase, "but what the hell are you doing here?"

For a moment the woman looked like she was about to answer, but her posture changed and she straightened up to her full height aggressively.

"What the hell am I doing here?" She asked, "How about why the hell didn't you call me after the plane crash to say he was in trouble. Why did I have to find out from some new guy at your office named Terrence that Garret was in the hospital, that Abby had been kidnapped?"

Jordan ignored the questions. "Terrence told you all that? How the hell did he know about Abby?"

René wasn't quite finished. "Why did nobody in the morgue think that I might want to know what was going on? If not because of my… history with Garret, at least because I am still the DA and knowing that my chief ME is incapacitated by personal issues might be important?"

Jordan was dumbstruck. It really hadn't occurred to anyone at the morgue to call René.

"Incapacitated by personal issues?" A gravelly voice came from the hospital bed where Garret lay prone.

"Garret!" Jordan was at his side in an instant. But he had already slipped back to sleep.

Xxxxx

Once again seated in the waiting room, but this time awake, Nigel was trying to look at the upside. "At least he won't be pestering us about the investigation, or getting into trouble he can't handle while he's here."

Bug was ignoring him. This wasn't the first time Nigel had said something to this effect. He'd been repeating it like a mantra the entire ride over. Instead of responding, Bug flipped a page of his newspaper irritably; the Boston Herald is not known for it's journalism, and Bug was quickly discovering why.

In the seats whose backs adjoined Bug and Nigel's, Lily was reading a parenting magazine that looked like it had been in the waiting room since the early eighties and Kate was on the phone with Woody.

"That's right. They said his name was Oliver something or other…"

Nigel was eavesdropping, he couldn't help it. Even while having a conversation with Bug (or trying to) one ear was listening to everything around him, when asked about this annoying habit, he had always claimed it was left over from his days in Her Majesty's Secret Service. It wasn't.

"Titleman! His name is Titleman!"

"Titleman," she repeated irritably. "Oh, you remember him, too? Wonderful." And she snapped the phone closed.

Xxxx

René had left Jordan sitting alone with the unconscious man. Leaning over him, wavy hair once again loose and obscuring her face, Jordan murmured to him, "Just like old times, eh, Garret?"

Giving him a wry smile, she hunted around his room until she found the remote to the TV suspended from the corner. Reseating herself next to him with the remote in hand, she flicked the TV on. "Might as well get your money's worth out of this place." She told the man beside her.

The glance she meant to give him turned into a longer gaze, and she could feel the tears rising in her throat. The skin on her nose tightened as her eyes widened, and she swallowed compulsively. Her mouth remembered what tears taste like, and she could feel her eyes begin to water. Hastily she wiped her eyes on her sleeve and turned her attention to the television, trying in vain to lose herself in the childish drama of Full House.

It was a few moments before she noticed her attempts were not working; the tightness had not left her throat, and her eyes and not dried. A part of her knew that her lips must have been expanding like balloons as they trembled.

She looked back over at him. He was still so thin, and paler than he had been when they brought him off the mountain. She had noticed over the past few weeks that his cheeks were sunken, that his eyes were darker that usual, but it struck her here how close they had come to losing him again.

xxxxx

_Oliver Titleman, Man of Mystery_.Nigel considered it for one irrational moment as a name for a movie. Shaking his head slightly at the bizarre workings of his overtired mind, he returned to perusing Oliver's information on the BPD website. Not that the hospital offered wireless internet, on the contrary, Nigel had been forced by the long wait for news on Dr. Macy to used his computer to hack into the hospital network. He was alternately using this access to check for updates on Dr. M's file and to read about Oliver.

Kate had moved to sitting next to him, and after a few shocked protests when he first began to hack into the hospital database had pointedly ignored what he was doing. His startled gasp, however got her attention.

"All right, I'll bite," she rolled her eyes. "What did you find?"

Grinning slightly, Nigel whirled the laptop to face her. "There. That is how he got out of jail."

Her brows furrowed. "Since when do they allow convicted serial killers out on plea bargains?" She asked when she had finished reading.

"That, luv," He grinned broadly, "is the mystery." He tapped the side of his nose. "Now, normally…"

She cut him off. "Don't give me the wind up. Just tell me."

"I have absolutely no idea why or how he managed to make that plea bargain but there it stands." He looked slightly crestfallen at this admission, and busied himself for a moment on the hospital database. "Oh look! Dr. M's been moved to a private room."

Bug happened to be walking by on his way back from the restroom. "How do you know this?" He asked suspiciously. After a moment taking in Nigel's slightly guilty expression, Kate's put upon one, and the computer between them, Bug shook his head. "Oh no. No. No, no, no. You did not just-" He lowered his voice, "-hack into the hospital data base."

Jordan, who had been kicked out of the ICU by a doctor more certain of his authority than those who had first tried to remove her, came up behind Bug, and slapped him on the back in greeting. Her mouth opened to share her good news, but Nigel, still looking at the computer beat her to it.

"Oh! He doesn't need surgery!"

Jordan closed her still open mouth with a snap,

Xxxx

On the verge of waking in his room, Garret listened to the rustlings made by the nurse. He didn't know who was in his room, his eyes were too heavy to open, but he knew who he wanted it to be.

"Jordan?" He croaked quietly.

There was no answer.

Remembering, he asked again "René?"


	10. Classic St Jude Complex

"It's strange isn't it," Jordan remarked into the quiet of the waiting room. Woody looked over at her, unsure who she was addressing. His blue eyes, already small and pouched from lack of sleep, creased in slight bewilderment. But she simply stared into her lap, refusing to meet his eyes with her golden ones, and twisting her fingers. "He's always the strong one. Always the one who's in control. The adult. But now…" Her voice trailed off, she had to stop before her voice could break. Thinking of that sweet crotchety old balding man plugged into who knew how many machines, so broken by the crash, and again by his daughter, and Oliver… It was too much for her.

Bug had been listening too, with a sympathetic expression he looked up from his fourth Boston Herald. "But now we have to be the strong ones." Though his expression sought to be sympathetic and reassuring, his voice was only grim and tired.

Jordan swallowed convulsively, and then hardened herself against the tears that were dangerously close. This was not the time, nor was it the place to break down. Inviting as Woody's arms looked. Woody saw the swallow, and moved slightly and prepared to hold her. Wanting to hold her again, he remembered the smell of her hair, and the slight weight of her body that seemed to grow heavier, but never less welcome, by the hour. The way she had settled against him while she slept, the way she fit against his chest. But he saw her tighten her jaw and straighten and resigned himself to yet another day in which they barely touched. The worry, Garret, Abby, the case, there was never enough time to be just them.

Nigel made a triumphant noise from over beside Kate. Woody wondered irrationally how Nigel and Kate were having time to get so close.

Jordan gave the dark haired Brit a look. "What is it now?" Her voice held no trace of the emotional turmoil it had been in earlier. She raised an eyebrow, and the gaze from her eyes was steady.

Nigel was looking more upbeat than he had in a while, and his mouth was stretched into a grin that he would have sworn he didn't remember how to make it had come so rarely in the past few weeks.

"It looks like he's going to be fine!" He paused for a moment and part of the enthusiasm faded. He narrowed his eyes and chewed on his lip. "For now." He typed a bit on his computer. They waited, the room silent except for the rapid taping of the keys. "Oh, ho!"

Kate glared at him, unimpressed by the dramatics. "What?"

He smiled to himself again, reacquainting himself with the feeling. He typed furiously for a moment. "That's very interesting." He stressed the last word, and glanced around surreptitiously, observing their reactions. Garret was out of the woods, and Nigel was never above having a bit of fun at the expense of his colleagues.

"What is?" Jordan's command was a breath above a growl, and her firm gaze brooked no funny business this time.

Still smiling faintly to himself, he continued to type.

"Nigel!" Jordan stood up threateningly, while Woody looked on, slightly amused.

"All right. All right." Nigel looked up at them all. "Oliver Titleman as we know him, ceased to exist six months ago."

Jordan wasn't amused. "Explain quickly, Nigel."

He sighed dramatically, but gave in. "His bank account closed. His driver's license wasn't renewed when it should have been. His passport has been expired for four years, and… and the lease on his last known place of residence expired a year ago. Oh, and his fingerprints are mysteriously not on file anymore. It looks like he erased himself."

"You got all this from a computer?" Kate drawled sardonically.

Nigel grinned at her. "I have my methods."

Woody looked alarmed, Lily dumbfounded, Bug was silently cursing, but Jordan was… Jordan was smiling, in a chilling bloodthirsty way.

It was Nigel's turn to be confused. "What?"

One side of Jordan's mouth twitched upwards into a smile, but he eyes were hard and expressionless. "Our little Oliver made one mistake. We still have his fingerprints on file at the morgue. From his little display on the glass cabinet."

Nigel grinned savagely back at her.

Xxxxx

They had all gone back to the morgue, leaving Jordan just a little bit more time with Garret. The nursing staff had barred her from the ward after she had been caught sneaking in to see him for the third time, but little things like that had never stopped Jordan, and so it was that she was sitting beside Garret as he came to once again.

From her seat beside his bed she watched him stir slightly, wrinkling the sheets she had smoothed when she came in, and then, even before he opened his eyes, turn his head towards her. His expression when he opened his eyes, despite his obvious exhaustion, was amused.

"Didn't I see you get taken out by security…the last time you were here?" His voice, with its characteristic gravelly tone was still weak, and Jordan leaned over to hear him better.

She raised an eyebrow and smiled slightly in assent, but chose not to verbally answer the question.

He groaned, but before she could do more than give him a worried look, he gave her a look that told her clearer than words that he was not groaning in pain or discomfort, but rather at her. Which was, when he came to think about it, more or less what he usually groaned about.

"Remind me why I hired you?"

She only smiled. It had been so long since he had seen anything to laugh about.

His face darkened, the memories that had left him on waking returned full force.

"Abby."

Xxxx

The morgue files on Oliver were conspicuously missing, and Nigel was furious. His reflex, after a bit of public cursing, was to dust the (already dusty) storage room for prints. Bug and Kate had stood silently during his display of fluent and imaginative swearing, but it had become abundantly apparent that he wanted to be alone and take his anger out in forensics. The tenseness of his back, the stiff angry way he strode between the files, and the irritable way he flicked the brush as he dusted for prints all had been enough to convince Bug and Kate to go back to running trace on whatever they could find, and leave him to his theatrics.

He worked his way from shelf to shelf, kneeling beside them, and then springing up with a snap to move onto the next shelf. His knees would regret this in the morning, but he intended to process the whole room if necessary, and that was where Jordan found him, kneeling in the midst of fifty years worth of files, surrounded by the hum of the generators and puffs of dust that swirled up whenever he moved, and lodged in his hair and clothing.

Despite the dirt the shelves in the morgue storage room were well lit, and Jordan saw Nigel the moment she walked in. He was too engrossed in his work to notice the soft slapping of her footsteps on the floor, or the click as the door closed behind her and so she had made it almost to his side when he noticed her.

"Sweet Nancy!" He breathed with a start, and dropped the brush he was holding. "Don't do that to me, love. I can't handle it right now." Unthinkingly he wiped his palm on his white shirt, leaving streaks of dirt all down his already soiled front.

She knelt beside him, looking worn. "Word on the street is that the file's gone."

He nodded, already dusting for prints again furiously, refusing to look at her and see what he was already feeling reflected in her liquid eyes. This was hopeless. Abby was probably dead, and when they found her body it would be all they could do to keep Garret from following. A part of him wanted to slow the case, delay the almost certain discovery of her corpse, and keep Garret with them as long as possible.

"So where is it?" She asked trying to be upbeat, but her voice caught wearily on the last syllable.

"Not here. Not misfiled. Not anywhere. Gone." He sounded out of breath as if he'd been running, and a hint of a wail was breaking in. Each word was clipped and short, as if by making them shorter he could lessen their meaning. It had the opposite effect and the words hit her like bullets.

"I don't understand. Only employees have access to the files." She scanned the shelves around her.

"Yep."

"So it has to be here." This was spoken with the deliberate logic of a person who hasn't slept in two days.

"Nope." If the word could have been cut any shorter, Nigel would have.

Jordan eyed him for a few moments. It was clear that she wasn't going to get much more out of him. Patting him gently on the shoulder, she attempted to convey a world of comfort in the slight pressure of her small hand. She stood up and brushed herself off cautiously to avoid leaving tracks of dirt to match his on her clothes. Gripped his unresponsive shoulder one last time and left as unnoticed as she had come.


	11. The Next Best Thing to a Family

_A/N: I know this is a short one, but some things needed to happen that didn't fit in the next chapter. Also, as usual I don't own anything Crossing Jordan related. And the reason that I left all the medical bits up in the air is that my knowledge of all things medical begins and ends with high school biology. So don't expect me to go trying to give you detailed autopsies or anything. Thank you all for sticking with me and reviewing! I'm fairly certain I have the ending worked out, and I hope it lives up to your expectations. _

_Thank you again!_

Jordan slowly climbed the stairs to the morgue, opting not to take the elevator in order to have a bit more time to herself. She was touched by how the morgue was taking Abby's disappearance, taking Garret's health. She had left Nigel working frantically needing to do something, anything. Without needing to check she knew Bug was probably reexamining every piece of evidence they had, with Woody hanging over his shoulder. Lily had taken on the fight with Garret's medical insurance. Even Kate was somewhere in the morgue above, running and rerunning trace from Mad Max/ Oliver's victims in a desperate attempt to get something from them.

Jordan felt the handrail running under her hand, sometimes for whole feet in a smooth slide, and then catching and pulling at her clammy palms. She let her thoughts drift back to her last conversation with Garret as her steps gained a sort of rhythm, the dull ache in her thighs reminding her it had been days since she exercised.

She had been sitting at Garret's bedside when he woke with a start. She moved a hand to rest on his arm and calm him, as he gazed around the room and reminded himself where he was. When his eyes finally met hers, she squeezed his arm through the sheets.

"Hey." Garret was no longer surprised when he woke up to find her by his bedside.

"How you feeling?" It had become her new form of greeting.

Following their new formula, Garret had ignored this, and Jordan winced inwardly at what she knew was coming next. His hand reached to grip hers, and his eyes held her gaze. It only took one word to ask. "Abby?'

His gaze held hers for a long moment before she looked down at her lap. "We haven't found her yet Garret. But they're working on it. I promise." She glanced at his face, but he wore the same resigned look as always.

Before she could stop herself she had blurted, "What if we don't find her? What if…" She broke off, hoping he hadn't heard her. Hoping somehow that he had missed the question. Uncomfortable she stared down at her lap, with her eyes flickering occasionally to look at him.

He was still for a long moment, and then let out his breath explosively.

"I don't know." His voice was quiet. It was a scenario he had imagined so often, one that left no escape for him.

The room was silent except for the beeping of the heart monitor and the sounds of nurses and doctors sprinting past the door to a code blue.

Jordan couldn't find a good way to put this. "Garret," she looked straight at him, "if anything happens to her, has happened to her, promise-" her voice broke, "-promise you won't follow or do anything stupid." Lily would have killed her for bringing the subject up and upsetting him an inconsequential thought told her. But more pressing matters were at hand, and so she held his pained gaze, with her lips full and trembling and her eyes suspiciously bright.

He didn't miss those signs. "I…" He paused for a long moment. This was harder for him than it was for her. And the lump in his throat would not let him speak, the words died before they reached his tongue. His mouth opened and closed painfully, and his grip on her hand tightened. The whirlwind of emotions that had trapped him for the past two months made it difficult to breathe.

"Jordan," he said finally, "I won't follow. I won't leave you, too." He added the last word deliberately, knowing this was the right answer, no matter how much he wanted to say that there was no living without his daughter, no matter how much he wanted to say that he couldn't survive that kind of blow, a small treacherous voice told him that he could survive Abby, that he could do it so that the people he loved wouldn't be hurt the way he was by Abby. As much as he hated the voice for betraying his daughter, as much as it made him sick to say it, he knew it was true.

Jordan had looked away, and sniffed.

But it was the right answer. And it was true.

Xxxxx

As she reached the morgue by the emergency stairs, Jordan's steps slowed slightly, instead of heading directly to trace where she knew they were all gathered, she lingered slightly in front of the staff photo taken this year. Garret had fought against it, but had been told by the powers that be that having a staff photo would raise morale. Jordan's mouth twitched, remembering him shouting into the phone that this was a morgue, dammit, morale was never high.

Her eyes found him in the photo, standing beside her. He looked happy if slightly annoyed by the cameraman, but he was happy. It was before the crash, before Abby. In the photo, though it was hidden by the people standing in front of them, Garret's arm was around her waist, comfortingly, and she indulged herself in the memory of being held, safe, by the father figure she had chosen, rather than the one she had been born with. The one she was certain had never lied to her or abandoned her.

Her eyes gave a start as she ran her eyes over the face of that new guy, Terrence. The one with the terrible beard. Focusing on him, she imagined him without the beard and the shaved head, and in a terrible instant she knew him.

Oliver Titleman smiled back at her from the picture. No wonder the new guy always looked so smug. He had managed to get a job in forensics right under Garret Macy's nose.

She wrenched the picture off the wall, taking pleasure in the noise it made as the picture hook that held it up came twisting out of the wall. She ignored the hole in the wall (damage to government property) and ran to Trace.

Bug was seated at the computer, surrounded by Woody, Kate, and a baby free Lily. They looked up at her entrance. Their faces told her what she already knew. They had gotten nowhere.

"Terrence Ollman." She held up the picture. "Also known as Mad Max. Also known as Oliver Titleman."

She had never seen Woody dive for his cell phone faster, or be more insistent about getting a warrant.


	12. Puppets Indeed

Woody had excused himself, and Jordan glanced away from the computer where Nigel worked to see him pacing in the hallway outside and gesticulating wildly in a desperate attempt to get a warrant for the arrest of Terrence Ollman also known as Oliver Titleman. She returned her attention to the computer where Nigel had pulled up Oliver's employment information as given to the morgue, which listed what Jordan hoped was the accurate address for his house.

"Don't tell Woody 'til after I'm out of here." Jordan instructed Nigel as she scribbled furiously.

Before anyone could stop her, Jordan had copied down the address and was on her way out of the morgue. In the hallway, Woody was too taken up with his conversation to notice her speedy exit. Lily gestured helplessly after her, but seemed rooted to the ground beside a resigned looking Bug. Even Nigel was too stunned for a moment to do anything. Kate, however, was right on Jordan's heels.

Nigel shook himself out of his shock, sprung from his seat and raced to the door after Kate, shouting helplessly at her retreating back, "Kate, the baby!" She ignored him.

Mouthing "The Baby?!" to Bug, Lily hurried after the now distraught Nigel, followed quickly by her fiancé. Woody whirled around as they left, and took in the scene.

"Oh, Jordan, no, no, no, no, no…" But by the time he hand finally closed his phone with a snap, and run to the doors of the elevators, they were gone, and he was left to sprint to the freight elevator in their wake.

Xxxx

Jordan drove madly through Boston traffic, weaving and dodging oncoming cars, and entirely forgetting to signal. Not that any of this was unusual in Boston, where signals are avoided on the basis of it gives the other drivers an unfair advantage when they know what you want to do, it was just unexpected behavior from a large black vehicle with the words "Medical Examiner" printed on the sides, and a blue official plate.

Kate had caught up with Jordan before the elevator doors closed and was now seated beside her, moaning slightly with each swerve and abrupt halt. On the armrests her fingers were gripping tightly and her knuckles were white. She was torn between watching the road for obstacles and closing her eyes in fear. She narrowly settled on the former, reminding herself grimly that there were two of her, and she had to look out for them.

Jordan glanced up into the rear view mirror as she swerved, tires screeching, around an elderly startled pedestrian. Behind them, Bug was doing his best to follow them in Garret's Range Rover, but being far more conscientious about obeying traffic laws.

"Jordan! It's dusk! Turn on your headlights!" Screeched Kate as Jordan accelerated.

Jordan flicked them on irritably, and pulled her hair away from her eyes.

Kate cringed as they roared through an intersection. "Yield sign! Yield sign! Yield to oncoming traffic!"

Jordan pointedly ignored her. Kate paled at the sight of an oncoming truck.

Xxxx

"They're going to be killed!" Lily was watching the morgue van's race through Boston from behind Nigel. She hanging onto the headrest, clutching it in wide-eyed panic as she watched Jordan narrowly avoid a cement truck. "Or kill someone else!" She amended after a moment, thinking of the white haired, cane ridden pedestrian.

Nigel had better things to be watching. Slightly stooped due to avoid hitting his head on the roof of the car, he was crouched over his computer, and shouting at Bug things like, "Take the next left, too much traffic on Comm. Ave." The idea being that if they navigated around traffic they could beat Jordan to Oliver's and stop her from doing anything stupid.

As he peered at the backlit screen, his cell phone began to ring. Without looking, he pulled it out. He glanced at the caller ID as he flipped it open, one handed.

"Woody."

"Where the hell are you guys? What the hell are you doing?" Woody clearly had bad reception, but his shouts still caused Nigel to wince and hold the phone away from his ear slightly. Lily and Bug fell silent to eavesdrop.

Nigel attempted to inject a little humor into the already bleak situation. "Chasing Jordan, which I'll grant you, is normally your job, but seeing as you seem to have caught her, it's our turn."

Lily exchanged a look with Bug, who then hurriedly returned his eyes to the road, hands still resolutely at ten and two.

"Ha. Ha. Ha." Came Woody's response, in a tone that was anything but amused. "I'm assuming she's on the way to Oliver's apartment. Without a warrant, I might add."

Correctly interpreting Nigel's silence as an assent, Woody groaned. "That's it. I'm using the siren."

Xxxxx

Oliver's listed place of residence was a small apartment in a small but apparently affluent complex along the Charles River. Despite the fact that it was fully dark by the time Kate and Jordan reached it (crazy driving notwithstanding, Boston traffic at rush hour is not to be trifled with), the apartment building was illuminated by lamps trained on it from the well mulched, and over peonied gardens. The bricks seemed new, they were red and unmarred by graffiti or aged chewing gum; the building was hardly more than a couple of years old.

As she pulled the car up to the curb, Jordan thought it was strange that Oliver could afford to live here; housing in Boston being as expensive as it is, and riverside property being at an even higher premium. With a slight lurch, she engaged the parking brake, and flung open her door. Kate took a moment to lean back into the cushioned seat and breathe for a moment before resignedly following.

"Jordan!" Kate grabbed her collar as she began to approach the apartments through the peonies.

For a moment Jordan struggled, leaving long dark trails through the mulch, as her desperate foot strokes churned the wood chips. From the damp mulch within, wafts of scent rose, making the already carsick Kate slightly sicker to her stomach, but she dug her heels in and willed herself to ignore the nausea overtaking her senses.

"Jordan!" She repeated in a low and angry whisper despite the bile that threatened, as the cloth of Jordan's shirt strained in her fingers. "We don't have a warrant."

"So?" Jordan's voice was a low and angry hiss, but she had stopped struggling, and had turned to face Kate. "I didn't ask you to come!"

Kate chose to ignore the last bit. "So? He's a known killer! He's dangerous. You're unarmed! I'm unarmed! And it's _not legal_!" Her voice had reached a slightly higher pitch.

The garden lamp beside her half lighted Jordan's face, and in it's light, Kate saw Jordan's mouth half curve into a vicious smile.

"_You_ may not be armed…" She left in hanging and pulled a gun out of her coat.

Kate recognized it. "You stole Woody's service pistol?" Her voice no longer held surprise in it; instead it was spoken with the same resignation that often marked Nigel's voice when speaking to or about Jordan.

Xxxx

Woody had noticed that his pistol was missing from its holster almost as soon as he had noticed that Jordan had gone. As he stood in the hallway watching everyone stream out of trace after her, he had missed its familiar weight on his belt, and when he reached to check, his fingers had confirmed its absence.

Now he roared through a maze of headlights, squinting against the glare of the taillights in front of him, and the flashing light now blazing on his dashboard. With a certain satisfaction, he noticed that the cars around him were reacting faster to the light than usual, and he was able to fly through with hardly any problems. Not that it did him much good, Jordan still had a head start, and he had known her long enough to know about her death-wish driving.

Somewhere out here, he thought, were Nigel, Lily, and Bug, still ahead of him, thanks to the wizardry of Nigel's GPS. And no one, no one had thought to yell at him as he left. No one had warned him as she stood behind him in the hallway and stole his gun. It pissed him off, and embarrassed him all at the same time. Not that Jordan had stolen his gun, though it was embarrassing, no, he was used to Jordan. This was just Jordan being Jordan, a particularly besotted part of him excused her. But at least Bug or Lily could have yelled at him that she was leaving. And he, with the most to lose by Jordan being hurt, had been the last one to follow her.

A moment later it occurred to him that Kate had been the first to follow her, and as he reflected on Nigel's shout, he realized that for once, it might not be Jordan that Nigel was rushing to save.

xxxx

As they had stood and argued in the now slightly trampled bed of flowers. Jordan and Kate had been noticed. He stood behind a tree and watched as they discussed his fate, and he saw the hard pistol in her hands.

They had taken longer to come than he expected, but he was not caught by surprise. Sooner or later someone would see the connection between Terrence Ollman and Oliver Titleman. And sooner or later they would come.

Xxxx

Jordan felt herself be knocked off her feet from behind by what felt like a man running at full force. For a moment she was aware of two hands hitting her back, shoving her, and she felt her ribs bending at the force. Then she was flying, falling. She got a face full of mulch as she landed, and the breath had been knocked out of her. She was momentarily immobilized and wheezing.

That moment was long enough for the assailant. He clocked Kate across the face with a sickening smack, before she had done more than whirl, surprised to face him. She crumpled, and he dragged her unresisting body quickly to the river and heaved her in.

It hurt too much, Jordan thought grimly as she pulled herself off the ground, to sprint, she was sure her back was a mass of bruises, but she did anyway, tearing the peonies under her feet, and tripping slightly on the irrigation head that kept them so well watered. Thanking God that the Charles was cleaner than ten years ago, when falling in meant a trip to the emergency room, Jordan sped past Oliver's dark form, and launched herself into the water after Kate.

'_Cause I love that dirty water…_


	13. That Badass Bug

_A/N: I have actually fallen in the Charles River. Out of a kayak. Everything that was once white has remained gray despite stain treatment and repeated washings._

Jordan felt the air leave her body in a rush as she hit the watcr. The chill went to her head instantly, and left her with a dull headache, similar to the effects of "brain freeze". Her leap had been as ungainly as it was impromptu and she had landed on her side before going under. She wriggled to the surface against the weight of her clothing, an unforeseen burden. As her head broke the surface again, she spluttered and kicked off her shoes to relieve some of the pull on her body. The water, despite her best efforts, had gotten in her mouth and left a strangely metallic and chemical aftertaste.

She struck out for what she hoped was Kate. In the dark it was hard to tell what was what. Given that this was the Charles, Jordan wasn't certain she _wanted_ to know what was what. She ignored the fact that her waterlogged hair hung over her eyes and obscured her vision as that particular sense wasn't much use anyway, and her only response to her stinging eyes was to shake her head and hope to divert the water running into them.

Her arms hit Kate's body after what seemed like an eternity. Jordan pulled Kate against her and hauled her head up and out of the water. Leaning her head towards Kate's mouth, she tried to hear any sign of life, but her own labored breaths echoed too loudly in her ears. As she gave up on this tactic, Kate shivered slightly, and let out what would have been a moan if it hadn't been cut off as Jordan lost her grip and let her slip under. Panting to haul her back up, and struggling against the water with her entire body, Jordan felt the unmistakable feeling of Kate breathing as her head broke the surface again. Thanking anything that would hear her, Jordan struggled to support her stunned companion.

There are people who are by nature swimmers, people for whom the silky caress of water is reassuring, and for whom it is not trouble to stay afloat. Jordan, however, was completely a runner. The kind of person for whom it was unnatural not to be touching ground in some way, and for whom the flutter kick is a foreign motion. And so she was completely at a loss for what to do in the water. As she treaded water and kicked in what she hoped was the direction of shore, her head went under as often as not. She knew her frantic kicking was not only loud but wasted precious energy. It was impossible to swim without her right arm, but that arm was supporting the dead weight of Kate's only slightly responsive body. All in all, it took everything Jordan had just to keep their heads above water.

She thought frantically that help must be right behind them. Surely Nigel, Bug and Lily had gotten there by now. Surely they could help. But they wouldn't know about the women struggling in the water. They wouldn't know, and Jordan didn't have the air necessary to scream and tell them. A scream could also alert Oliver to where they were, not that her splashing and flailing about hadn't done that already. She had no doubt that he was the man who had attacked them.

The thought of Nigel brought something else to mind, and she renewed her efforts to keep afloat.

_Damn it to hell. I'm swimming for three…_

She struggled on in the darkness, praying for shore, for help, as her adrenaline born endurance faded and her limbs numbed in the water.

Xxxx

Bug's law-abiding nature had not left them as far behind Jordan and Kate as they had thought. They arrived in time to hear the splashing that was Jordan's third renewal of effort as Bug pulled up behind the van, and Nigel dove out of the car, carrying the only weapon like objects to be found under the passenger seat in the car, an ice scraper and a black umbrella. He hadn't been in the Royal Navy for nothing. Not that he had been employed in a very active or weapons oriented capacity, Counter Intelligence being more of a mental struggle, but one couldn't help but pick some things up. Like when faced with an armed and dangerous foe with no idea where said foe was or what he had to fight you with, it was nice to have a pair of pointed sticks to hold between you and him.

Lily, tumbling out of the backseat in her hurry to join in was the first to see the shadow creeping up behind Nigel as he approached the van; Bug had melted into the darkness to investigate the splashing from the river. Lily's "Oh!" of warning gave Nigel only enough time to whirl before Oliver was on him.

Gesturing at the empty van with the ice scraper, the umbrella extended like a sword, Nigel hissed, "Where are they? What have you done with them?"

Oliver wasn't stupid enough to pause and respond; instead he swung at Nigel with his fist. Only to be clobbered over the head an umbrella. Swaying slightly, Oliver retreated warily, seeing the ice scraper and the umbrella as threats for the first time.

Nigel brandished the umbrella threateningly and repeated in a deadly voice. "Where are they?"

Lily huddled beside the car terrified, though whether of Oliver or madman Nigel she couldn't be sure. The fight was illuminated eerily by the garden lamps, which cast cruel shadows of them on the brick building and on the pale sidewalk.

Oliver dodged the umbrella to swing another desperate punch at Nigel.

The ice scraper came up to meet him in the groin and Nigel grinned. Lily scrambled in the car for something to help Nigel with. Not that she thought he needed much help. The look in his eyes…the only word she could think of was _berserker. _ He probably wouldn't even feel it if you stabbed him.

Her hands grasped the tissue box, just as Oliver recovered and came up again suddenly. The injury was not as serious as he had feigned. Nigel, berserk though he might have been, was caught unprepared; Lily was not, and the tissue box hit Oliver on the back of the head with just enough force to distract him for a crucial second. Nigel bashed him once over the head with the curved handle of the umbrella, in the stance of a baseball player nailing a fastball. Oliver went down like a stone.

The fight had lasted less than a minute.

From the river came Bug's frantic yell to call 911, followed by a quiet and controlled splash that met Bug's entrance into the river.

Xxxx

"Bug?" The word came out of Jordan in one quick breath, it was all she could manage. Between the cold and the struggle to keep afloat, her chest was already burning with the need for oxygen.

He swam towards her voice in neat quick strokes and relieved her of Kate. Jordan noticed with some envy that he had neither trouble swimming, nor keeping Kate's head above water; he took off quickly with Kate and was out of sight.

She forced her tired limbs to follow him. "Who…knew….you could…swim?" She choked out in painful gasps, before going under again.

At the bank, Bug handed Kate up to Nigel, before turning around to find Jordan's head gone from view. Even in the darkness, where it would have been hard to see her head if it was three feet away, he knew she had gone under, and was not just out of sight. If nothing else, she had stopped splashing after him. He reached her side slightly before her head came bobbing back up.

"I'm fine," she gasped as he tried to pull her to him, but her head sank back under before she could protest further. Bug simply hauled her to shore after him.

Xxxx

Woody pulled up to Oliver's apartment, now officially a crime scene, fit to be tied. Not only had he gotten lost, been informed by Rene that the warrant could be some time coming, and his newfound luck with traffic run out, there were more ambulances at the scene than Oliver and Abby could possibly account for. There were three. Not to mention the other sets of flashing lights reflecting off the building, which were accounted for by, the two squad cars that had somehow managed to get there before him. And, he reminded himself irritably as he got out of the car, Jordan still had his gun.

Jordan. That couldn't be her wrapped in a blanket on that stretcher. He was halfway to her before he realized he was running. He was almost at her side before he heard her voice protesting, "I'm fine!" to the two EMTs beside her. The next thing he realized was how wet she was. In the light coming from the open door of the ambulance he saw that the blanket around her was soaked through and her hair was clinging at odd angles to her face and back. Even given the poor lighting he was prepared to bet that she wasn't normally that yellow, and that her lips were not normally that blue. His annoyance about the gun theft was immediately forgotten.

She looked up as she saw him approaching, and gave him a half-hearted smile. Her mouth was open to explain to explain everything to him, but a uniformed officer coming up behind her cut her off.

"Ma'am?" He enquired. She twisted to look at him. The EMT moved obligingly out of the way so that he could speak to her. "The lady over there-" he pointed at Lily who was deeply engrossed in a conversation with another officer "- said I should tell you. We searched his apartment as soon as the warrant came through-"

The warrant had come through? This was news to Woody. He felt his annoyance rebuilding at being left out of the loop.

"- But there was nobody there. No sign of anybody there." Finished the officer.

Jordan and Woody shared a desperate glance. Abby was still missing.

xxxxx

An ambulance pulled away from the scene, sirens blaring. Inside, a weary but loud voice began to complain to Nigel, and indeed, anyone that could hear her, about how cold she was, and how much her head hurt, and what the hell was going on?

"No, I'm a doctor, I know what I need, so get that thing away from me!" The voice ordered angrily. Rustling noises indicated her struggle to sit up, and subsequent overpowering by a harried but undaunted EMT.

Nigel smiled in relief, and opened his eyes from his silent and unorthodox prayer. He relaxed his grip slightly on her hand. Funny, he was gripping hard enough that it must have hurt, he mused, but she hadn't complained about that.

Yet.

He relaxed his grip even more, just to be on the safe side.


	14. A Woman First

_A/N: Don't own them. Thank you all so much for reviewing._

Kate was dry, warm, comfortable, surrounded by people who loved her and entirely pissed off. Nigel, in some obscure fit of sentimentalism, had burst into the closing hospital gift shop, surprised a tired adolescent volunteer, and bought a large helium balloon, which was now hanging over Kate's head. The hospital light's reflected off its garish lettering, which announced to anyone who looked up that "It's (Almost) A Girl (Or Boy)." The corrections had been made hurriedly by a sharpie as Nigel came up in the elevator. Kate was sure there was a better way to announce to the morgue that she was pregnant, and had reminded Nigel several times that "almost" meant six and a half months.

She was also sure she was losing circulation in her left leg, due to her position on the bed. But moving would mean alerting the others to the fact that she was awake, and she couldn't deal with anybody right now. Especially not Nigel.

Admittedly, there weren't that many other people in her room. Lily was hovering anxiously by the bed, and Nigel with her. But Lily was only there because, as she said, she was not going to be useful in processing the contents of Oliver's apartment. Nigel was there, Kate knew, though she shuddered to admit it, because he _loved her._

And although they had discussed it, she was still unclear what to do about that. The morgue staff was having problems with it, too.

Xxxx

Several hours before as Kate lay in the bed, and Nigel rushed around after balloons. Bug, Lily and Jordan sat by Kate and kept watch. Or Jordan did. Bug and Lily were busy trying to communicate something across the bed.

Finally tried beyond her patience. Jordan barked "What?"

Bug looked guilty. "She's pregnant."

"I know."

"How do you know?" Lily asked, looking surprised, " You weren't there when Nigel yelled after her."

Jordan shrugged. "I ran into her at the store." Lily gave her a look. "Buying the test." Jordan clarified.

"And you didn't tell us?" Bug was hurt.

"It wasn't your business."

"Yes, but…"

"What Bug is trying to say," interrupted Lily, "is that it's all a bit strange.""

"Strange how?" Jordan's voice held dangerous undercurrents.

Bug attempted to salvage the situation. "Its just so feminine."

Jordan's face was unreadable. "She is a woman."

Bug nodded. "But she's usually so angry."

It was lucky that a nurse stopped by then to put a stop to the conversation, Jordan thought. The conversation was about to get awkward.

Xxxx

It was Jordan's turn to be annoyed. She had refused medical treatment and returned with the others to the morgue to try and finally find Abby, but Woody, newly reunited with his service pistol, had disappeared an hour before on a "hunch" and had not been seen or heard since. Her temper was not helped by the mountain of work piled in front of her on the conference room table. Oliver had kept all of his bills in a battered cardboard box that she had overturned in front of her. The thinking went that if he owned another place, somewhere where he kept Abby, it would be represented in a bill, or receipt or something. Jordan reflected that whoever had done that bit of thinking obviously hadn't seen the amount of bills on the table in front of her. It would take ages to go through all this thoroughly, and she wasn't even sure what she was looking for.

To make her job even more difficult, somewhere in that creepy little head of his, Oliver had hidden a meticulous accountant. Unfortunately, his inner accountant had reached neurotic long ago, and gotten worse since then. He had saved receipts from everything along with his utility bills. Chewing gum purchased at CVS was carefully documented.

_Starbucks receipt, number 43…_ She threw it down on the table, and looked reluctantly at the pile of paper cuts waiting to happen. _You're doing this for Garret, you're doing this for Garret._

A vibrating noise came from the other side of the table, followed by the crash that marked the moment when her phone had vibrated itself over the edge, helped by the jolt the table received when she attempted to dive after it, and succeeded only in slamming her already bruised hip into the edge of the table.

Swearing loudly she ducked under the table and picked it up. She glanced quickly at the blue caller ID bar on the front, before flicking it open, and crawling back out from under the table.

"Woody! Where the hell are you?" She stood up, and irritably ran a hand back through her hair, taking a certain angry satisfaction when her hair caught in her watch and ripped.

"Alfons Dimmen, Jordan."

"Who?" Her voice had lost only the slightest bit of edge, and the word came out in a snap. She held the phone between her head and shoulder as she idly removed strands of hair from her watchband.

"Alfons Dimmen," he carefully enunciated.

She rolled her eyes, "Yes, Woody. Got that the first time. Now, who is he and why do I care?"

"One of Abby's angry boyfriends. Came after Alvaro Sanchez. Remember, back before we thought she'd been kidnapped and just wanted to find her?" He sounded slightly smug. Jordan wasn't sure she wanted to know why.

"This is important how?" He was almost as frustrating as Nigel.

"Well, it seems our Abby has a thing for convicts. Alvaro Sanchez, petty thief. But, Alfons Dimmen? Drug possession, intent to distribute, oh, had a stolen tazer. Guess who he shared a cell block with, back in the day?"

"Oliver Titleman."

Xxxxx

"You know, they're both Germanic names, Dimmen and Titleman," Jordan mused fifteen minutes later as they crowded around Woody in Trace. "I bet it was Teitelmann or something when they came over."

"This is relevant how?" Bug asked, looking away from Woody, and the screen displaying Alfons' face.

"The fact that they were cell buddies is relevant how?" Jordan paused a moment. "Oh, right, we don't know. Right now, all we have are the funny coincidences too weird to be just coincidences."

Bug snorted. "Probable ethnicity is stretching it a bit."

Woody cleared his throat. "People, people. If we could settle down, please?" Bug and Jordan glared at him. "And focus on these?" He gestured to the mug shot and the folder in his hand.

"Okay, so we know that the novelist boyfriend reported her missing the day the plane went down. " Jordan began, nodding as she picked up the case file.

Bug nodded and picked it up after her. "When she was kidnapped by her ex-boyfriend as a favor to his ex- cell buddy." He shook his head. "You guys have been hanging around Nigel too long."

Jordan turned her back slightly to Bug, and ignored his outburst. "When exactly did Oliver get out of jail?"

Woody consulted his notes, "A week before the plane crash."

She began to pace as she thought. "So, he could have called Alfons, and then gone down to get her."

Bug was visibly upset. "We don't know that Alfons is involved in this in any way!"

"There's one way to find out."

Jordan had nearly made it out the door before Woody hauled her back into a rough embrace that served to purposes. He got to hug her, and she didn't go off and do something stupid.

She was relaxed in his arms, and her back pressed into his chest, so that he could feel the clasp of her bra through her soft shirt. She glanced up over her shoulder to look at him, smiling, but also confused. He groaned inwardly. How many times had he had to do this with Nigel?

Gently, he released her, but kept a hand on her shoulder and turned her to face him. He pointed at himself. "Cop." He said seriously. Then, trying to look stern but failing miserably, he pointed at the woman with suspicion dawning on her face. "Not cop." And he neatly dodged the half-hearted punch she threw at him.

Bug squeezed past them, and out of Trace. "Get a room."

Xxxxx

Alfons Dimmen was not a happy man. He had been arrested well after midnight at his home, and dragged down to the police station without so much as a by your leave. He still wasn't sure what he was being charged with, but given the amount of dope he'd had in his jeans, Jordan was sure he could hazard a guess.

As Jordan watched, he was brought into Interrogation, resisting each step he had to take, until he was finally thrust into the hard wooden chair by two thoroughly fed up policemen. Woody shifted beside her as he watched, and she leaned her head against his shoulder. Never once did she take her eyes off the surly German in the chair.

Woody pulled away from her, and through the door. Moments later he reappeared through the door behind Alfons. Jordan looked at the two of them for a moment and thought she could understand exactly what Abby saw in him. Alfons Dimmen was hot.

Even next to Woody's impeccably toned body, the German rippled with controlled power. Jordan surmised from his biceps that his abs must be divine. She noticed with the pleasure of having chosen the right man, that his eyes were nowhere near as blue as Woody's, instead they were a pale, watery blue that always appeared to be twitching slightly. He was well tanned, and his blond hair gave him a surfer-esque appearance. The impression of surfer only left Jordan when she looked down past crooked nose, and blunt chin, at the abstract tattoo on his neck.

She turned her attention back to the proceedings at hand. Woody was talking amiably; ignoring the glares he was receiving from the shackled Dimmen.

She watched as Woody pushed the picture of Abby across the table again. He was smiling, but his gaze was hard. "So you have no idea where she is?"

Alfons Dimmen sat back. "No! I told you, dammit. I haven't seen her since she ripped me off. If you find her, tell her I'm looking for her." He moved to spit on the floor, but something in Woody's stare told him not to.

Woody drew out another picture from the file under his arm and slammed it on the table. Dimmen didn't even flinch. But Woody seemed not to notice this unusual lack of reaction. "What do you know about him?" Jordan surmised the picture was of Oliver.

Dimmen pressed his lips together. Woody leaned down so his face was inches away from Dimmen's. "What do you know about him?"

Dimmen's nostrils flared. He leaned forward lazily, forcing Woody back, and looked lazily at the photo. "We were locked up together. Kid's crazy. Was still in there when I left. What, he get out?"

Woody stood up. "Yes. He's out. And killing. So why don't you tell me where he is?"

"What's in it for me?"

Woody lazily waved the evidence bag of drugs. "I'm sure we can work something out."

He gestured, and René Walcott strode into the room.

Xxxxx

In the other room, Jordan's phone rang.

"It's Oliver," Bug's voice told her. "He's awake finally. And he wants to see you. He doesn't want to see Dr. Macy. He said he wants a woman, and he wants you."

xxxxx


	15. YouCanScrewMe,ButYouCan'tScrewWithMe

"Excuse me?" It wasn't the most original response Jordan had ever come up with, but it came closest to expressing her feelings on Oliver's request, and it was all she could come up with on short notice.

"Oliver wants you." Over the phone it was hard to tell if the tone in Bug's voice was regretful or amused. She hoped it was the former.

She asked the first question that came to her lips. "For what?"

Xxxx

"You'd be the perfect way to consummate my love for forensics." Oliver was grinning. It was recognizably Oliver, although stitches from Nigel's attack crawled their way up his left cheek. Jordan had a brief mental image of larger, thicker stitches marching along his chest in a y shape.

Terrence was gone, she realized. He had been gone as soon as the nurses had cut and shaved off his beard to sew up his face. Pity. They should have left it an open gash.

"Excuse me?" Jordan growled for the second time that night. Or was it morning? She was losing track. A glance at the clock informed her it was morning. A glance at the window told her dawn was coming. A glance in the mirror would have told her she had bags under her eyes, and that her hair was mussed.

She edged her way into the room. Uncomfortable in Oliver's hot gaze, she seated herself out of arms reach, but next to his bed. He grinned at her precaution and rattled the handcuffs that bound him to the bed.

"I said you'd be the perfect way to consummate my love for forensics." His voice was light, seemingly unaware of the fact that he was handcuffed to a hospital bed, next to an overtired ME with anger issues, surrounded by cops, and charged with murder…again.

Jordan sighed and shifted uncomfortably in the chair, fighting the urge to push the chair farther from the bed. The resistance the chair had offered when she subtly pressed against the floor had shown her that the chair would squeak if she attempted to edge away. There was no way she would let Oliver know how much he frightened her.

"Everyone's a comedian tonight. I know what you said Oliver." Her tone held a hint of steel. "I was asking what you meant." Overruling her internal squeamishness she held his gaze steadily.

He looked hurt by her tone, but after a moment he replied, "Just that if I…had…you, Dr. Cavanaugh, or should I say…Jordan, there would be no better way to…consummate."

The dramatic pauses irritated her past her discomfort, and his presumption to use her first name earned the renewal of her anger. "Define consummate." The words were spat at him. She straightened in the chair, awaiting his answer.

"I'm sure I don't have to do that, Jordan." He smiled lazily across at her, and her jaw tightened.

"It's Dr. Cavanaugh, _Oliver_," she stressed his first name, "and I'm sure the opportunity won't arise. They frown on that sort of thing on death row."

His smile never faltered. "We don't have the death penalty in Massachusetts."

Two could play at that game; the brittle smile on her face remained frozen too. "But they have the life sentence. And if all else failed, I'm sure we could find some prison that overlooks the presence of weapons." Now her smile became a threat, and she leaned in, "After all, what's one less prisoner? Saved tax dollars." She paused a moment. "And I'm sure we could find an out of state crime and make it stick, if you preferred the chair."

He didn't respond to that, but simply cocked an eyebrow at her. It was a mistake, she watched him realize, as the action pulled at his injured cheek. She counted that mistake as a point for herself. Cavanaugh: One, Titleman…she considered for a moment…zero.

From close beside him, she spoke, starting to enjoy the way he watched her lips. He wasn't going to get anywhere with that particular sick fantasy. "Where's Abby, Oliver?"

He remained silent.

"Did you decide you needed to consummate your love for forensics and that Dr. Macy's daughter was as close as you could get?" There was no mistaking her anger now, her voice was not gaining in volume, but it was gaining in roughness, which lent it what would otherwise have been called a purr. Her eyes flashed. "Did you rape her? Did you rape her, you sick bastard?"

She raged at his continued silence, and continued in the same deadly voice, "Did you kill her, you son of a bitch? To prove something? Did you kill her for a game with Doctor Macy?" He was still unresponsive, though he winced occasionally when she emphasized words. The hurt expression had returned.

The last wall within her snapped. She stood deliberately up from the chair. "You bastard. You don't even have the balls say something when I talk to you. Well let me tell you something," She was yelling now, ignoring the parts of her that tried to restrain her, told her it was just lack of sleep. "No one gives a damn about you, _Oliver. _No one gives a damn about your pathetic, twisted little games. Is this your twisted way of asking for attention, did your father not love you enough, is that it? Well, let me tell you something, no one cares."

It wasn't her best speech ever. She had lost some of the power to rip him to shreds in the muddle of sleep deprivation she fought through. But it was enough. She leaned in one last time. "We are going to nail your ass to the wall."

Smiling triumphantly at his expression of injured hurt, she whirled to leave only to find Woody standing just inside the door. She met his gaze for a moment, but strode determinedly out, leaving Oliver only the memory of her words and the echo of her heels for company.

Xxxx

When Jordan had calmed down slightly, and napped for two hours in the back of Woody's car, she was brought to speak to René, the only person Jordan knew who had gotten a full night's sleep.

René was seated beside Garret's bed in Mass General. In all the confusion she had somehow wriggled her way into the watch Garret rotation. A major bonus of being a district attorney, it turned out, was that you could accomplish by job description what Jordan had recently been unable to accomplish by yelling: the permission to stay after visitors' hours are over.

She looked up on Jordan's arrival, and greeted her with a polite smile. "I hear you went to talk to Oliver?" Her tone made it obvious that that was not all she had heard. An elegant eyebrow raised, she continued, "I understand you were quite vocal."

Jordan gritted her teeth and sat on the foot of Garret's bed. He did not respond to the slight tremor she sent through the mattress, and Jordan surmised that he was sleeping the sleep of the heavily medicated. "He expressed an interest in having sex with me."

"The nurses at the desk could hear you." The reply was toneless.

"To 'consummate his love for forensics,'" Jordan growled. She was aware that she ought to be more polite, but being asked to see Walcott on two hours sleep was pushing it.

"I just wanted to ask you to be careful," began René, but Jordan had lost it.

"You called me down here to tell me to be careful? I have slept two hours in the past thirty-two." Jordan shoved herself of the bed, and for the second time that night stalked out of a hospital room.

Watching through the window, Woody winced. That had not gone so well.


	16. Going for MVP

  
Woody was slow to catch up to her as she stormed out of the hospital. He came up behind her in the parking lot and steered her away from her car. She was too tired to fight him, but she shot him a questioning look, that managed to convey a bit of a threat.

He looked at her sternly. "You're in no condition to drive. I am bringing you home, and you are sleeping." He got the passenger side door open after a few tries, and shunted her in before she could protest, carefully placing his hand between her head and the car to make sure she didn't hurt herself.

As he buckled himself in across from her, he caught her gaze. The buckle snapped together, and, as if prompted by the noise, she asked, "What took you so long coming after me?" Her voice was husky with oncoming sleep, and the question held no sharpness to indicate she was very alert. She wriggled to get comfortable on the seat, slouching a little.

He carefully backed out of the space, knowing that he, too, was probably too tired to be driving. As he shifted back into drive, he told her, "Walcott."

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her smile knowingly. "What'd she-" Jordan broke off into a badly hidden yawn, "-want?" She curled up as best she could in the seat.

He tried to keep his voice casual, tried not to show signs of the scolding he'd gotten. "Oh, you know, to tell me that the police force had it covered. You know that the morgue didn't have to be running around doing everything themselves, other people get paid to do that. That I should leash you so that she didn't have to spend her entire career smoothing things over in your wake."

Jordan gave him a look. "In my wake particularly, or the morgue's in general?"

He smiled; it wouldn't have been funny if he weren't so damn tired. The pressure on his eyelids to close was excruciating, and he was caught emotionally somewhere between laughter and tears. "Yours."

She sighed. "Should have known."

Woody smiled at her. "Her exact words were, 'In the criminal justice system the people are represented by two separate but equally important groups. Neither of these groups includes Medical Examiners."' Those hadn't been all of her exact words. That had come at the end of the scolding, when she was trying to inject some humor into the situation.

Jordan yawned. She was finally too exhausted to take offense. It was hard to see; spots were dancing in front of her eyes. How long had it been since she'd slept for more than ten minutes?

He watched her for a second, and then turned his eyes back to the road. "What's that from? Law and Order or something?"

His query was met only with silence. He risked another glance over.

She was fast asleep, her head resting against the window, at an angle that would surely cause her neck to cramp painfully later. He made a note to avoid potholes much as possible to keep her head from bouncing against the glass.

Xxxxx

Kate watched Nigel as he sat beside her bed. She didn't tell him he had already neatened the bedside table only moments before.

"Nigel."

He turned immediately to her. His eyes reflexively checking the monitors still attached to her for signs of something wrong.

"Why am I still here?" She rolled on her side so she could see him better, and propped herself up on one elbow.

His eyes jogged momentarily to her stomach. There was nothing to see, but she knew what he was looking for.

"Nigel, I had a mild concussion." He tried to avoid her gaze, but she held it. "Now, when I asked I heard something about the Chief Medical Examiner and special requests." He finally broke her gaze and stared steadfastly at the window. "Now, as far as I hear, Garret has been out cold for the past six hours, which leaves…you."

His mouth moved for a moment before he blurted. "It was Jordan's idea!"

She sighed. "Now why does that not surprise me?"

He had the grace to blush slightly. "I was worried, about the baby and all, and Jordan said that Devan filled in for Garret once, and she didn't see why I couldn't and they didn't look all that hard at the badge when she said it. She was rather forceful about it."

Her face was blank for a moment while she made sense of that. "So, Jordan, as the Chief Medical Examiner, told the doctors to hold me, because you were worried."

"That about covers it. Yep."

"Nigel, the baby is fine. I am fine. What are you going to do lock me in some isolated house in the middle of nowhere?"

He looked for a moment like she had hit him with a board, and then he stood, smiling. She knew where this was going.

"No, I am not moving in with you. We are not getting married. But yes, you can be there for the birth."

He glanced at her confused for a moment, the waved that off. He bent quickly to kiss her full on the lips. "You're brilliant!" He told her firmly.

She eyed him warily, unable to detect any trace of sarcasm in his words. "Because I told you we're not getting married? Or because you can see the birth?"

He shook his head. "' Lock you in an isolated house in the middle of nowhere!'"

"Try that and I'll kill you."

He shook his head again. "Not you, Abby!"

xxxxx

As he pulled up to the curb beside her apartment, not caring that he was parked at least eight inches from the curb, she stirred, and slowly lifted her head from the window. Condensation had formed around the outline of her forehead, and the damp trapped strands of her hair on the glass for a few moments before she had pulled completely away.

He watched her for a few more moments, watched her slender fingers fumble slightly with the seatbelt, and then delicately guide it back past her shoulder.

"What?" She had noticed his gaze.

"You haven't called me Farmboy in a while." It wasn't what he'd been thinking, about how good it would feel to lie next to her, but it had been on his mind for a while.

She smiled sadly. "That's 'cause you haven't been any kind of Farmboy in a very long time."

She moved to get out of the car, but stopped and looked back at him with the door cracked slightly open.

"You miss it?"

It was his turn to smile sadly. "Yeah."

Xxxx

He woke after a short nap on her bed to find that she had never gone to sleep. Wincing at the parts of him that ached, mostly from the position he held while he tried desperately not to take up more than his half of the bed, he rolled over, trapping some of the sheets beneath him. He looked up guiltily only to find that it didn't matter that he had pulled most of the sheets to his side of the bed. She wasn't in it. Only a faint depression in her pillow testified to the fact that she had been lying beside him.

He could hear her voice in the main room of the apartment. She was arguing with someone. Nigel. He caught the name a few times. It sounded like Nigel was telling her to go back to bed. That Oliver could keep. That Abby could wait until she could stand without swaying. Apparently she lost the argument, and was told that whatever important news Nigel had called with would be revealed after she had slept a little.

Woody went back to sleep, and when he woke again she was beside him, curled in his arms.

Xxxx

Nigel called again four hours later. Woody realized that there was a caller sometime between when the phone rang and when Jordan's arm slammed into his ear on it's way to the phone.

"Yeah?" Her voice was sleepy as she answered the phone, and her face hadn't left the pillow. Woody couldn't see, but he would have felt safe betting that her eyes weren't open yet either.

"An old farmhouse near some fields as I recall, why?" She mumbled in response to the caller's question.

She rolled over onto her back, and sat half up, not bothering to pull up the covers to hide her nakedness.

"Yeah, I remember, but hell, Nigel. Why didn't you think of this earlier."

Woody sat up to. "What? What?" he mouthed.

She pressed the mouthpiece of the phone to her chest. "Nigel says, and I think he's right. That Oliver got that idiot brother of his to hide Abby. In that old farmhouse their family had. "

"Why didn't you think of this earlier? Why didn't we haul the brother in for questioning as soon as we knew? After all that time I spent with Dimmen!" He was hissing this so that Nigel couldn't hear.

She didn't answer him, but put the phone back to her ear. He hit himself theatrically in the head, but was held back from speaking as she waved her hand at him to keep quiet.

"Yeah Nige. I'm still here."

In her ear his voice responded. "I think we all may have been very, very foolish. I only hope it was because we were distracted by Dr. Macy and not because we are completely incompetent. In my defense, I checked and he had removed the information about the farmhouse from the system."

In the background she heard Kate's voice yelling something to the effect of "Stop chatting and get going!"

Jordan agreed.


	17. Wouldn't Dream of It

Woody was at the steering wheel once again, this time accompanied not only by Jordan, but also by Kate and Nigel. They had insisted that he stop by the hospital and pick them up. Well, Nigel had insisted on being picked up, and Kate had refused to be left behind. "I want to see Abby safe almost as much as you do." It had turned out well enough in the end; Nigel had taken the time to get them all coffee.

Jordan sipped, and enjoyed the burn, anticipating the caffeine as hot liquid ran down her throat.

In the back of the car, Nigel and Kate were bickering. Somewhere in her ever-present exhaustion Jordan had managed to block them out. But every now and then bits crept through.

Nigel crouched over his beloved GPS, staring at the moving red arrow intently, while he focused half of his attention on Kate. She, too, was crouched over the GPS; her loose curls tickled his cheek, and smelled surprisingly feminine. He turned more of his attention to the GPS trying to block out to persistent tickle of her hair.

"This is stupid!" She exclaimed for what must have been the eighth time in the past ten minutes.

Woody gripped the steering wheel tightly, hoping that his anger would be exhibited only in the death grip he had on the wheel, and not in his voice as he asked, "What is it this time, Kate?" He hadn't quite managed to keep the groan out of his voice.

"This GPS is giving the stupidest directions ever!"

"This GPS," Nigel responded, "is top of the line! It's programmed to always find the shortest, most efficient route!"

"Well, clearly it fails to take several important criterion into account," Kate drawled. "Like where the heaviest traffic would be at noon on a Saturday! It's sending us through every town center it can!"

"Don't blame America's materialism on the GPS!"

She continued as if she had not heard him. "And when it isn't sending us through town centers it's sending us down dirt roads that we can barely do thirty on!"

Woody told himself to breathe deeply. The ache in his knuckles forced him to relax his grip on the wheel. Beside him he heard a snort, followed by a liquid noise, as Jordan lost control of her amusement and snorted into her coffee.

Xxxx

Despite Kate's complaints, Nigel's instructions brought them to the old farmhouse shortly after the first squad cars had arrived. Police had surrounded the building by the time Woody put on the brake, but it appeared that no one had gotten inside.

The crunching of the tires on gravel had barely stopped before Jordan was out of the car. Her door flung open, and she stopped only to ask, "What was his brother's name?"

"Lyle." Nigel told her as he struggled to place the GPS somewhere safe, and get his seatbelt off simultaneously.

Jordan set off towards the house, kicking up gravel as she barely restrained herself from running to the door. A tall, black haired cop stepped out from beside his car to hold her back. "No go, lady."

She flashed her badge, hanging inside her suede jacket, but he only smiled. "You think I don't read these things? That says medical examiner. And they haven't found a body yet. So either you shouldn't be here or you should stay behind police lines."

She bestowed upon him a beatific smile, then kicked him smartly in the shins and yanked herself from his grasp. She couldn't think of any clever remark to leave him with, so she just left before he could regain his hold on her jacket.

Woody was only seconds behind her. "Jordan! Jordan!" He turned to the cop who had held her back, who was now bent over and rubbing his leg. "Why the hell did you let her go?"

The man stared at him, "Let her? Let her?"

Woody cut him off before he could go any farther. "Never mind, just…" And he followed Jordan into the house.

Nigel, hesitated then made to follow them, but Kate held him back. He looked at her hurt.

"No, Nigel."

Xxxx

Inside the house was musty, and dust lay everywhere, despite obvious signs of habitation. The dirty dishes in the kitchen sink confirmed Jordan's opinion that Lyle was a lousy housekeeper.

Woody followed her as she crept quietly back to the stairs. He'd wanted to yell, let Lyle know they were there, but Jordan had shushed him. At the time it had seemed like too much effort to argue, but now as they climbed to the second story, he was regretting it. There was definitely something in police protocol against this.

Jordan halted slightly as a stair squeaked under her, then after testing the next stair with her toe and hearing no protest from the worn wood she continued. Going carefully and testing each stair. As they neared the top, Woody gently pushed her to the side, and moved in front of her.

"I'm the one with the gun, remember?" He whispered in her ear as he passed. "Not to mention I'm the one with the handcuffs."

At the top of the stairs they were met with a long airy hallway. The bathroom, in which Oliver's mother had died, had been redone in shades of orange, and the slightly open door revealed that there was no longer a glassed in shower, just a curtain.

The first door on the right opened onto an unoccupied bedroom. Gun held in front of him, Woody checked it just to be sure. He returned to the hallway, where Jordan was peering into what appeared to be a second bedroom. Sighing, (had he or had he not told her to stay behind him?) Woody crossed the hallway to join her.

"Oliver's," she told him quietly, and gestured at the microscopes, and shelves filled with forensics weekly that lined the pale blue walls.

The third door was locked.

Xxxx

Nigel and Kate stood with the police listening to the crackle and hiss of the radios and watching the empty windows of the building for some hint of what was going on inside. No ruffle of a curtain alerted them to a movement, no shadows silhouetted on the window eased their curiosity as to what was going on inside.

Nigel felt pressure on his side, and looked down. Kate's head and shoulders leaned against him, and his black leather jacket highlighted her pale brown hair. Her mouth was twisted into a worried frown. Gratified that she sought comfort on his shoulder, Nigel wrapped a protective arm around her.

"_Suspect sighted in second story window," _crackled a nearby radio, and Nigel jumped slightly in surprise. _"Suspect appears to be armed. Repeat suspect may be armed."_

"Where is he seeing this?" wailed Kate as her eye's scanned the building for any sign of the armed and dangerous Lyle.

Nigel had no answer for her and held her closer. Wherever Lyle had been sighted, he was gone now. He had disappeared into the depths of the building, and sooner or later he would find Jordan.


	18. I'll Be the One Not Wearing Handcuffs

_A/N: I really didn't like the past few chapters. But I needed to get things done, so that someday this story will actually end. I'm hoping soon, too. Two or three more chapters maybe. But tell me, did you think the past few chapters needed more detail (I thought they did), or were you just really glad that something was finally happening? Oh, and don't get excited about what I upload as the next chapter, it's just a list of where all the chapter titles came from. I'll keep moving it back and updating it as I add things, so that_ _it'll always be the last chapter._

Jordan woke to a pounding headache and general confusion. She opened her eyes briefly but the light sent sharp pain stabbing through her head, and she quickly closed them. The stabbing pains remained. She was sitting, drooping rather, propped up against something that involved long stripes of pressure on her back, and hurt. Without opening her eyes she tried to shift away, but found that her arms were bound to the thing behind her. The pressure on her wrists told her she was handcuffed. She knew she should be panicking but as awareness of what was surely a bad situation dawned, so did something else; her butt really ached.

She shifted position, noting as she did so that the floorboards beneath her were warped, and dipped slightly in the middle. Time had spread the boards apart and left gaping cracks between them. She remembered where she was and her eyes flew open again. The first thing she noticed was that she was chained to a radiator, hard on the heels of that realization came another, Woody was chained beside her, awake, and from his posture, pissed.

Pressure on her other side, on her right shoulder, made her look over, turning her head cautiously, in a futile attempt not to agitate the monster pounding on the inside of her skull. A blonde head was leaning on her shoulder, the person belonging to it was clearly fast asleep.

She turned her head slowly back to Woody, his left sleeve was ripped, and she saw a nasty cut under the tear that had dyed the ragged edges the fabric a dark sickening red. After a moment, she noticed from the color that it wasn't bleeding anymore. It had clotted shut.

Woody saw her looking at him and raised an eyebrow. She looked around the room. It was empty. Empty of furniture. But full of dust.

"At least we found Abby," she croaked at him through her headache.

"I think Lyle found us," he whispered back. He winced. His headache must be as bad as hers was.

"Head?" she asked trying to breathe away the pain.

He nodded, then closed his eyes as a look of pain took over his face. She would have moved to help him, but for the pressure on her wrists. She looked over at Abby, or what she could see of the girl over the mound of her hair that rested on Jordan's shoulder. Abby was painfully skinny, but breathing.

She was alive.

Xxxxx

René was glaring at Lily, clearly angry at her. Lily had told Garret everything while René was in the bathroom. René was furious, and Garret was fighting weakly to capture enough of Lily's attention to pump her for information.

From opposite sides of his bed the women squared off.

René lost it first. "You were supposed to keep him calm. Keep him from worrying. Tell him when it was all over."

Garret interrupted before Lily could respond to the furious brunette. "Have you heard anything since?"

"See?" said Lily triumphantly, pointing at Garret. "He's glad he knows." She turned to look at him and growled, "Aren't you Garret?"

René didn't let him speak. "It doesn't matter what he thinks, it matters that you not worry him!"

"She's his daughter!" Lily was outraged.

"He's in the hospital and needs to remain calm!"

Garret surreptitiously pressed the call button. It was unnecessary; the raised voices had already drawn attention from the nursing staff. The door to his room opened, and a slim but authoritative nurse burst in.

"Out! The both of you!"

He waited until all three of them, Lily, René, and the nurse were out of sight before reaching for the phone and calling Nigel. Of all of his staff, Nigel was the easiest to pressure.

Xxxx

Nigel was worried.

"They've been in there an hour!" He ran a hand through his hair and returned to pacing.

Kate watched him, biting her lip. "Nigel, I know. I've been here the whole time!"

"If they've been in there an hour," he babbled, "why haven't they come out yet?"

She didn't respond.

"Why aren't they out yet?" He repeated this slightly louder, and hysterically, "Why aren't they out yet?"

Kate was still silent. Police had been trying to communicate with Lyle for almost fifty minutes. It had gone from arrest of Lyle with a lookout for Abby's dead body to a hostage situation. The police were furious. And the negotiator was getting nowhere.

Xxxx

The door to the empty room creaked open, and a gun preceded Lyle Titleman into the room. He may have been brainless, but he wasn't totally without survival instincts.

He stood in front of them for a moment, then placed a cold pizza and a bottle of water in front of them. Jordan and Woody watched him coldly. He paused on the way out. This was never supposed to involve a police officer.

Jordan stopped watching him to look at the food. There was no way for them to eat it, the handcuffs held her arms to tight for her to reach it. She looked at Abby, and saw she was uncuffed. The food wasn't for them after all.

Woody caught the momentary flicker of indecision. "The police are outside. They know we're in here."

Lyle stood stock still at the door. He didn't even push the lock of mousy brown hair out of his eyes. "I know," he responded slowly.

"The arrested Oliver, Lyle." Jordan told him, "It's over. If you let us go, then maybe the judge'll go easy on you."

Lyle walked out the door, closing it carefully behind him. A moment later they heard the unmistakable sound of a key turning in the lock, and footsteps disappeared down the hallway.

Woody swore beside her.

"What?"

"The bastard handcuffed me using my own handcuffs. The balls on this guy!"

"Then whose handcuffs are these?" She shook the ones on her own wrists so that they clanged on the pipes of the radiator.

He shifted so that he could see them. "Mine, too. I was prepared for contingencies."

"I seem to remember you getting yourself out of a similar situation because 'what kind of cop would you be if you didn't have a key?'" She left it hanging.

"Yeah, but how'm I supposed to get it out of my pocket? He's got the handcuffs so I don't have much leeway." He demonstrated, pulling at the radiator.

She looked at him, "Which pocket is it in?"

"My left one," he inclined his head at the pocket nearest her.

"Scoot over towards me a bit," she commanded.

He complied, and she turned her body away from him. Abby's head fell to Jordan's chest, and Jordan wondered what exactly was keeping her knocked out. She slid as close to Woody as she could, holding her right hand as close to the radiator as she could, so that the left had more reach. After fumbling behind her for a moment, she smiled triumphantly.

Withdrawing her hand from his pocket, she dropped the key by his hand, and returned to her original position. He took it immediately.

s


	19. Just Another Day At the Office

**Chapter Nineteen**

Jordan was at the door before he could stop her, peering out the keyhole into the hallway to see where Lyle was. Groaning slightly as his muscles, inactive for so long, protested his every movement, Woody cradled the still unconscious Abby, and moved to join Jordan. His thighs had yet to notice the added burden of Abby's weight, but he wanted to get out of there before they did. The blonde head lolled against his shoulder and he moved and he was inundated with the musky scent of her unwashed body. His nose wrinkled slightly in spite of himself.

Jordan stepped away from the door, then ran at it, shouldering through it with a bang as she had seen Woody do so many times before. The impact of her shoulder on the door hurt more than she had expected, and she gave a fleeting thought to the fact that it probably would have been more practical to kick through the door instead.

Woody reached her side, mouth slightly open in surprise. "Jordan!" He hissed, but she had gone through the door as soon as he joined her, rubbing her shoulder as she went. She left it slightly open in her wake, and her footsteps echoed down the empty hall in spite of her attempt to move silently. Swearing quietly under his breath, he followed her, careful not to hit Abby's unshod feet against the doorframe.

Jordan looked over her shoulder to make sure that Woody followed her. No need to wait any longer to get Abby out of here. Adrenaline was coursing and she glanced around her, straining to hear signs that someone had heard her break down the door.

Lyle was bound to notice them sooner or later. It was a thought that ran through her head over and over. Looking at the steps that had groaned under their weight on he way up, Jordan guessed that it would be sooner. She placed her feet gingerly on the edges of the steps, one against the wall, and one against the rail, as those were the parts most directly supported by the structure of the building. Behind her, she could hear clumsy footfalls as Woody did the same.

She knew it was nonsense, but she listened so hard, she almost felt the skin on the back of her ears tighten as they pulled her ears wider open. In a split second as she reached the bottom of the stairs she heard it. Reaching blindly behind her she grabbed Woody's shirt and dragged him down the rest of the stairs.

"Run!" She hissed. Assuming she was behind him, he did.

She ran, too, but farther into the building instead of following him to the door, betting that Lyle wouldn't be able to decide who to chase before Woody made it out of the building.

Xxxxx

Nigel watched as the swat teams lined up, prepared to go inside and free those who had been taken. He heard without bothering to decipher the cries of those in charge as the black suited, helmeted men moved into position, looking unreal against the backdrop of the white farmhouse and golden fields. Kate was no longer at his side, but was deep in conversation with Lily. Nigel glanced at her feeling guilty. Someone had to keep the others in the loop, but when he'd tried to use the cell phone he'd been too distracted to dial.

His eyes lingered on Kate, running over her features, the soft blond curls that were still slightly compressed in back from the car ride, the irritability in her stride… But his thoughts slid back to Jordan, and he sighed. Hunkering back to lean on a police car with his arms over his chest, he prepared himself for yet another vigil for Jordan. And Woody. Slowly the thought came to him, _and Abby._ If she wasn't already dead, which, Nigel thought with a sickening feeling, she probably was.

Xxxxx

Woody had burst onto the porch before he realized she wasn't behind him anymore. Blinking in the daylight he whirled to look for her, torn between bringing Abby to safety and rushing back in to save Jordan.

In the split second that he paused on the threshold, the pounding of feet that he had vaguely heard in the background, manifested themselves as black shapes that over took him, and burst through the door. The swat team was making a move.

Two of them stopped and took Abby from him, and pulled him insistently away from the house, talking into headsets as they went. His arms hurt from her weight, and his muscles protested as he lowered his arms to his sides. His thighs hurt. His head hurt. It all hurt. And in a blinding moment, it didn't matter because Jordan wasn't with him anymore. Coming out of his sunlight-induced daze, he began to struggle, to go back for her.

They blocked his return, held him back. Their hands cut into his tired arms, pinning him back against the hard cold metal of a car.

Xxxx

It had all happened in seconds; Woody bursting out of the building, Abby in his arms, and SWAT rushing in. It was a few moments before Nigel had made all the necessary connections and rushed to Woody's side as he was held struggling against the ambulance. Behind him, Kate had slammed the phone closed with a curt, "I gotta go." Lily could wait a little bit longer for the rest of the update.

Woody stopped fighting, and the ambulance pulled away from him, lights flashing, with Abby Macy safe inside. Nigel roughly pushed through the men restraining Woody, barely seeing them. He grabbed Woody's shoulders and shook him hard.

"Where's Jordan?" Nigel asked desperately.

Woody looked at him, his eyes slightly unfocused.

"Where's Jordan?" Nigel repeated insistently.

Woody wasn't really seeing anymore, his head was hurting worse than ever, and the adrenaline had left his body, leaving him tired and empty. The nausea and dizziness he was feeling he recognized as signs of concussion. He was too tired to care. Except about Jordan. Nigel's words couldn't penetrate his fog.

Nigel looked at him, concerned. Turning to the police who had taken over for SWAT restraining Woody, he half yelled, "Has anyone had a look at him?"

They shook their heads, but Kate was there before they could do anything. She looked at Woody's eyes, and gently probed his skull with ungloved fingers. The tips of her fingers came away from the back of his head slightly bloody.

She looked up at Nigel. "Concussed," she confirmed. Smiling slightly she added, "That makes two of us." She looked around, apparently noticing something for the first time. "Where's Jordan/"

Xxxxx

Lyle was not good at fighting, and he was even worse at chasing, but he had a gun, and that gave him a certain advantage over Jordan.

The downstairs was a maze of overturned tables, and broken glass, evidence of Jordan's creative use of barriers and projectiles. She crouched behind a couch, waiting for him to find her there, grasping a glass in one hand and a crystal decanter, dusty but half full, in the other. The decanter at least had the chance of knocking him out if she threw well.

Her heart thumped insistently in her burning chest, obscuring her hearing with its sound. The exertion hadn't tired her so much as the fear. She schooled her breathing, took deep breaths that did nothing to steady her nerves. As the footsteps came nearer she renewed her grip on the decanter.

The door opened and the decanter narrowly missed the black helmet before crashing on the wall, staining the wallpaper and showering the floor with glass.


	20. Can We Move On Now?

_A/N: I tried to get emotional in this chapter, something I'm always squeamish about. But the problem with emotions, even autobiographical ones, is that they're generally so confusing in the first place, and all the thoughts are mixed up in the physical feelings that come with them. I tried to keep it as coherent, and in the later parts of the chapter, as PG as possible. _

_Tell me if I need to clarify. Damn, this whole emotional thing makes me nervous._

xxxx

Men in black led a sullen Lyle away from the farmhouse, as Woody leaned against Jordan and watched. She looked over fondly at the sea of dark hair and gently kissed the top of his head, feeling the tickle of his hair on her lips with pleasure. It was nice to be alive. She leaned against him, feeling him shift slightly so that they were both leaning on each other, each taking some of the other's weight. The pressure on her side helped her focus her scattered attention. If she could just focus for one coherent thought. But there was no mistaking the tiredness that pervaded her body. That one sleepless night hadn't taken any of it away.

She shook herself slightly as Nigel and Kate came over to them, gently separated them and pulled them to the car, over the protests of the police still gathered around them. They could give statements later. Jordan let Nigel tug her by her elbow, gently shoulder her into the car, and buckle her in securely beside Woody. She was asleep even before Kate had gotten the key in the ignition, and the engine gently shuddered to life.

xxxx

Jordan watched as Garret engulfed Abby in a hug, pulling her up from her hospital bed into his arms, ignoring her protests, as his arms brought her hospital gown up and around her, nearly uncovering her. Certain tightness filled Jordan, and her stomach felt leaden. With a certain shame she realized that jealousy was surging through her body like bile.

Before it could show on her face, she turned and snuggled into Woody's arms, hoping that the pressure of his body would mask the illness that she felt. His arms encircled her, and he nestled his face in her hair, breathing deeply the scent of her. And Jordan snuggled against him, unable to get the fulfillment she wanted from him, and knowing it wasn't fair to ask Woody to father her as well.

Wetness rolled down her cheek, and she caught it on her tongue, knowing before it landed that it would taste of salt. Even turned away from them, she could still see Garrett hugging Abby, and every bone in her body yearned to be in Abby's place. To have Garrett hugging her again as he had when _she_ was sick. To be somebody's daughter again. But she couldn't pretend this anymore. Garret had a real daughter that needed him. And she, the motherless child of a vagrant father, wished desperately for his support when his daughter needed him most. Timing was a bitch.

Her cheeks tightened, and her eyes stung with tears that she batted back, her eyelids softly brushing Woody's neck. He craned his neck to kiss her on her tangled hair.

The ugly feelings intensified along with the shame, and her tears became evident in her breathing. Woody was confused, but rubbed her back gently. Bug, looking sideways over Lily, saw her and reflected that he had never seen Jordan break down after being kidnapped, but that the stress involved must have gotten to her this time. Lily would have gone to hug her, too, were it not for Bug's arms around her waist. Nigel only looked at her sympathetically, while Kate looked at her baffled.

Jordan pressed herself more firmly into Woody, as if to press the feelings from her body. Out of the corner of his eye Garret noticed her vaguely, and then dismissed her presence as he had done everyone else's to focus on the only thing that mattered. Abby.

Xxxx

Nigel had it all figured out. Bug had helped, but Nigel, Nigel had it all figured out. As they crowded around Abby's bed, oohing and ahhing over her, and enjoying the quiet happiness that had settled on Garret's face as he held her, Nigel was bursting to tell. It was, he realized, not the time for grand revelations, not here with the steady hum of hospital in the background, and the occasional loud speaker announcing a code blue. Not with the nurse that popped her head in every two seconds only to be escorted out (again) by Kate, who uncomfortable still in the 'family,' had taken on the role of bouncer with the relief of having something to do.

The nurse came in again, and once again, Kate firmly blocked her path. Nigel spared them only a glance, his attention torn between Dr. Macy and Jordan, who was inexplicably crying on Woody's shoulder. Bug had gently faded into the background, gently massaging Lily, sparing only the occasional concerned glance for Jordan; he knew the signs of lack of sleep.

Voices rose behind Nigel, and he turned, irritated to see the source of the noise. The nurse was more emphatic, and Kate was losing ground. They were being kicked out.

When the insistent nurse had finally gotten them all, or most of them into the hallway, Nigel turned dramatically to look at them. Noting someone was missing, he peered through the window back into the room from which they had just been evicted. Garret still sat beside his daughter. Nigel turned back to the group. Grinning devilishly he pulled Kate towards him. It was worth a try.

She stared at him as he theatrically held her, half cradled in his arms. She was too dazed by the sudden embrace to do much about it, and Nigel was stronger that he looked. He drew the ring that he and Bug had painstakingly selected from his pocket. Woody stared at him, with the expression on his face of watching someone prepare to jump from a high building; shock, surprise, and helplessness all mingled together to leave him speechless. And he couldn't look away, though he knew this would end in a mess.

"Marry me." Nigel's voice was tender.

Kate flushed furiously; knowing that every eye was upon her, and he had meant to do this, pressure her into it. Jordan's tears had gone as suddenly as they had come, and she stood open mouthed like everybody else. Woody's arm fell in a belated gesture of warning.

Kate pulled herself upright, and straightened her shirt. "No."

"For our little one?"

"No."

Nigel's smile didn't falter. To everyone's surprise, but mostly Kate's, he leaned in and kissed her firmly.

With his arms around the stunned Lily, Bug resolved for the millionth time not to try and understand that relationship. Jordan grinned over at his confusion, while Woody looked on, horrified.

Xxxxx

Later as he lay beside her in her apartment, Woody rolled to look at her. She had not snuggled to him as usual, and he missed the silky whisper as her hair tickled against his back. Now she lay facing the ceiling, and if he was any judge she hadn't been able to sleep at all. Her breathing was deep and steady, but would occasionally stumble over faster breaths, or release all in one sigh, in a way sleepers never do. She noticed his attention and rolled to face him, the blanket still chastely covering her, hair radiating out in dark, tangled contrast to the sheets.

"Jordan," he sighed, "are we okay?" He wanted to close his eyes and wince away from the answer; his insides squirmed from what she might say.

She looked at him confused. "Yeah."

He held her gaze. "I just feel like, we're engaged, we're sleeping together, and we are in love, right? I mean we haven't really had time for us…in a while. Since Abby. I feel like something's up, but I haven't been around enough to know what it is." He paused, while her brows came together in confusion and worry. "We don't talk.

Her dark eyes seemed deepen, and she was silent for a moment. "What do you mean by that?" She looked slightly hurt by the implication that he didn't love her, or she didn't love him.

"You haven't touched me since we were with Garret and Abby." He couldn't keep the hurt and confusion out of his voice. "And tonight, well, it doesn't matter if we stay up, because no one's life is riding on this. And you're all weird. Distant." He reached out to stroke her cheek, wanting to take some of the sting out of his words. Wanting her.

She rolled a bit, and looked away from him. "I don't know, Woody… I guess I'm just tired."

He turned her back to face him. "For someone who's tired, you're not doing much sleeping. What's up?"

She sighed, but this time held his gaze. "It's not you, Woody-"

He broke in. "If you blow me off by saying that it's not me it's you, Jordan-"

She spoke over the end of his threat, "Woody, I-" He fell silent to listen, but she, too, had run out of words.

He watched her for a moment, lying there, looking so hurt, and so unwilling to tell him. Then he sat up, anything to break that awful gaze, and the swelling silence.

"I think everything will look better over a cup of coffee," he said, not particularly looking at her. If he couldn't deal with the situation, he could lighten the mood until she was ready to deal with whatever it was, so he strode around to her side of the bed without bothering to grab boxers, and lifted her protesting out of the blankets. She gave in after a few attempts to whack him with a pillow, as he carried her off for coffee. He looked sternly down at her once he held her firm in his arms and told her, "and then we'll talk. We haven't talked."

He knew he had said that already. She didn't seem to listen.

Jordan, in fact, firmly ignored everything but Woody's warm, slightly clammy chest, and the growing smell of his body, and looked desperately for a way out. Both of them knew they didn't want to talk about this. Grinning mischievously, she saw a way out and wriggled up to nibble his ear gently.

He looked down at her surprised, and knew exactly what was going on. "No."

She nuzzled him, drawing a groan from him, half in desire, half in resignation. "Jordan."

And her mouth covered his before he could say a word. The talk could wait until later. She resolutely pushed aside the nagging voice telling her some things did need to be dealt with, as Woody's reluctant tongue played inside her mouth.

xxxxx


	21. Locked Out by God

_A/N: There's definitely going to be an epilogue following this. And maybe someday a sequel. Maybe tomorrow, maybe a few months from now. And I'm such a closet romantic. Couldn't resist a happy ending. The first part of this was going to be shorter, but cjloverforever was right. They needed more than that. So I gave it to them. _

xxxxx

When she woke, Woody was no longer curled beside her. Eyes closed her arm groped the bed beside her for a moment, confirming what she already knew. She rolled to look at the clock, which told her in no uncertain glowing red numbers that it was after noon.

The smell of coffee lured her into the kitchen, still pulling a sleep shirt over her head as she entered. Woody was nowhere to be seen, but a red mug sat on the table, covered by an upside down plate to keep the contents warm. She gravitated towards it, pulling back her hair as she inhaled the strong aroma, trying to convince herself that it contained airborne caffeine. At least enough to get her to the real stuff.

"Jordan." She was too tired to jump, and only waved vaguely in the direction of the speaker, fixated only on the coffee

Woody came out of the bathroom and watched her stumble towards the coffee for a moment before continuing.

"We need to talk." She had just taken a sip of coffee, and swallowed it too quickly at his words. Choking on the hot liquid that burned its way down her throat to her belly, she turned to face him.

He was dressed, jeans and a white tee shirt. If his arms hadn't been crossed over his chest like that, and he hadn't been looking at her so intently, he could have been a model.

"About us." She felt like the words had hit her in the stomach. She ran their conversation from last night over in her mind, trying to find the reason for this. His voice this morning was emotionless and gave her no hint as to why. Only the hint of steel told her that he still was human.

She looked at him and half-smiled appealingly. "Can't you let a girl wake up first, before hitting her with the heavy stuff?"

He walked to her. "No." He stood close to her, leaned over her, but not a single part of his body touched her. He gave her no way to repeat last night's performance. "We need to talk now, not later, not sometime, not after…" He let it trail off, and she blushed as he called her on it.

There wasn't any way to avoid looking at him; he was in front of and over her. Helpless to avoid him, she stared at his chest.

"Do we have to?" It was pathetic. Worse than her excuses for not getting engaged. Maybe this was what it meant to get close to someone, running out of excuses.

He touched her for the first time, his fingers cool as they lifted her face to meet his eyes. She winced away, tugged the corner of her mouth back. Her eyes darted side to side, but ultimately they came back to rest on his eyes. Only then did he answer. "Yes."

She grimaced and set down the coffee.

His fingers gently caressed her chin in response. He sighed after a moment. "I don't get it, Jordan. I just don't get it. What's so bad about talking? We're engaged and you can't talk to me."

She mumbled something inarticulate. She was too tired. Too raw. And part of her screamed that he was right.

"Come on, Jordan. Just talk."

She looked at him, her almond eyes pleading with him under sleep tousled hair. Then the corner of her mouth pulled back again, painfully. "It's just…" She took a breath, "every time we talk...about us…about how our relationship is…we end up deciding we're better off as friends." She looked away from him. "And I don't want that Woody. I've been your... almost something…" The pain in her face wasn't receding and she barely whispered. "I can't be your almost wife, too. I don't want to just be friends." She looked up again, begging him to understand her.

After a moment, he smiled. "Hey." His thumb rubbed the side of her face. "Jordan." He dimpled slightly. "You know what? I don't want to just be friends either. I promise this isn't how this is gonna end." He finally reached out and drew her towards him. It was easy to fall into the role of protector. She settled her head against his shoulder with relief. "Do you want to talk more now? About whatever it is you haven't been talking about?"

Against his shoulder he felt her nod. Her chest rose against him, and she exhaled again slowly. "I never had a sister," she began.

Woody was already lost.

"I never had a sister," she repeated into his side, "and then I got Lily."

He could sort of follow that.

"I never had a big brother, and then I got Nigel."

Woody didn't mention James. He was pretty sure that wasn't what this was about.

"Bug's like a little kid sometimes, you know?" She was choking back tears now.

He was lost again.

"When I was a kid, after my mom died. I always thought…always thought that if I had a little brother, I could have done better for him, than she did ….for me."

His arm tightened around her, but she didn't seem to feel him, she was talking now, crying now, and she was somewhere else.

"I never needed a father." She paused for a long time. Then, so softly that he barely heard her, "Until I did." He wasn't even sure he heard the next part. "But he already has a daughter."

For a while he just let her lean against him. Then he spoke as quietly as she had, "I had- have- a little brother. Most of the time I'm sure I didn't do half as good a job for him as my dad did for me."

She snuggled against him, and he buried his nose in her hair. Her arms snaked around his back, and he was no longer sure who was comforting whom.

"Jordan?" He asked quietly.

"Hmmm?"

"You never had a fiancée either."

She finished for him, smiling slightly at the corniness, the sheer woodyness of it. "But now I've got you."

After a moment he spoke again. "That wasn't everything we needed to talk about."

She stiffened slightly.

"But I think, that next time will be easier. 'Cause we're never gonna just be friends."

She nodded in his arms." I love you." It was whispered in a rush, half desperately in his ear. But it would do.

"I love you, too."

Xxxxxx

Garret's first stop after being released from the hospital was the morgue. No need for Jordan to stake out his apartment this time, though he hadn't seen her at the morgue yet. He'd give it fifteen more minutes before he called his place and told her she could come out now.

He sat calmly in his office, reveling in how light he felt having his daughter back. Even how pissed he was at Oliver was dimmed in comparison. The instinct to go find Alfons Dimmen, wherever he was being held, and beat up the bastard who'd sold out his daughter's location for the sake of a cell mate who had a few grand to spare. She'd come up to Boston the day they crashed, begged to stay with Alfons. And the son of a bitch'd agreed only because he knew of someone who'd pay to have her. Garret planned to go to every day of that trial.

Nigel and Kate had already been by, albeit separately, to welcome him back, and to ask for permission to have half the day off. Garret had granted it gladly, even after Nigel had told him in a conspiratorial whisper that they were going to look at cribs. One look at the stack of internet print outs and parenting magazines in Nigel's hand as he said this had made Garret feel sorry for the salespeople about to be blindsided by fatherhood Nigel.

He sighed and picked up the phone to call Jordan, when a soft knocking came by the door.

He looked up to see her. "Speak of the devil."

She didn't smile at him, but came in and shut the door behind her.

"You didn't call and tell me you were being released," she accused, still standing in front of his desk.

He only smiled. "Last time I didn't need to."

"I waited two hours for you."

"At my place?" When she nodded reluctantly, he laughed out loud for the first time in a long while. "I told you I didn't need to call you."

"You could have told me you weren't going home first!" She said stubbornly, but her eyes danced. She knew how ridiculous she was being.

"I was sure you'd figure it out. And look you did!"

She smiled at him for a moment, before walking purposefully around the desk and kissing him soundly on top of the head.

Standing in front of him, she studied him seriously for a moment. "I'm glad you're back, Garret. I'm glad all of you's back."

He returned he serious look. "I don't think I've thanked you yet, Jordan. For finding Abby. I don't actually think I can-"

She waved his thanks aside. "Consider it payback for all my years of being a pain in the ass."

"Seriously, Jordan. I don't think there's a way to thank you enough-"

"There is." She was totally serious.

He raised an eyebrow at her. "And how's that?"

Twirling a bit of hair around her finger, she seated herself on the edge of his desk. "Lily asked Nigel to give her away at his wedding. Something about them almost being married once."

Garret smiled. "I heard." He'd been slightly hurt at the time that Lily hadn't asked him.

"She didn't ask you." Jordan was looking straight at him as she said this.

Slightly unnerved at the knack she had for reading him, he replied lightly, "Probably afraid I wouldn't be out of the hospital in time."

His attempt to bypass the slight hurt made her mouth twitch slightly. She leaned towards him. "I'm glad she didn't."

"Excuse me?"

"Because then I can."

He stared at her. "What about Max?"

"He stopped answering the last number I had for him." She shrugged, a gesture that made him wince for her. She turned back to face him. "But you said you wouldn't leave me." Her eyes made that a question.

"So I did."

"Garret?" Her voice held an edge of uncertainty, and the slightest bit of panic.

In answer, he stood up and wrapped her in his arms. "I'd be honored to."


	22. Burning Bush

_A/N: I'm really unhappy with this it might come back some day in a different form. Thank you all for reading and reviewing and being so supportive. It's been a ton of fun. I already think I have a sequel, but it'll have to wait. Work and all that crap._

_Thank you all again. I'm sad it's over._

_xxxxx_

The small crowd in the center of the garden stood with their backs to the people in the rows and rows of folding chairs behind them, the colors of their clothing matching the flora around them. Bug, though initially put out that Lily had asked Nigel to give her away, was flanked by the cologne scented and clean shaven Garret and Woody, or had been until Woody had sidled over to stand beside Jordan, one hand resting gently on her silk covered hip.

From her place behind Lily, Jordan fought the urge to pull a piece of lint off of the simple white suit the bride was wearing. She was helped in this endeavor by the squirming flower girl in her arms, whose rosebud headband was causing Jordan no end of grief. If it was actually on the child it was around the poor girl's neck, something Jordan found preferable to the circlet being trodden under foot when it inevitably fell off. Woody's arm around her was not making the job any easier.

On her other side, Kate held a smaller bundle, which from this angle Jordan was unsurprised to see was still sleeping under his masses of straight black hair. Nigel claimed proudly that his son would sleep through a four-alarm fire. Jordan was sure that wasn't sure how babies were supposed to act, but given the circumstances concluded that his behavior was completely understandable; the Reverend Lily had chosen was boring as all hell.

Somewhere in the crowd was Abby, spending her last day in Boston before she went back to the novelist. Garret had reluctantly approved on the grounds that this one just had delusions of literary genius, but didn't seem to be actually on anything. No one had the heart to tell him that Abby probably would have gone whether or not he grated his approval. Some things were not changed.

Looking at Woody, Jordan smiled as a butterfly landed on his lapel. Having the ceremony in a butterfly garden had been one of Garret's more enlightened ideas, if it only was developed to head off the factions in the morgue divided over cruise, chapel, or traditional Indian wedding (something which Bug firmly opposed on the grounds that they'd never get rid of his mother). The little monarch perched on Woody remained only a few seconds, unnoticed by his host, before flying off again.

Woody noticed Jordan's gaze, and raised an eyebrow at her before turning back to the ceremony quickly, hoping the small woman standing next to Garret hadn't noticed his lapse in attention. Bug's mother was every bit as domineering as he had hinted, and it had taken her all of five minutes to get Garret, her escort, as well as the rest of the wedding party completely under her thumb.

Maddy began to struggle in Jordan's arms, and Jordan set her down quietly, the headband still hanging around the child's neck. Keeping one hand on the girl, Jordan smoothed the front of her red silk dress, and smiled as Woody's attention was distracted again. This was her last chance to be a maid of honor, and she had done her best to go out with a bang.

With a sigh of relief she heard Lily's clear, "I do," and picked up the grass stained Maddy to join the rest of the wedding party as the couple walked back down the aisle together. Garret gracefully escorted the mother of the groom after them. As she moved to follow Garret, Woody plucked the child from her and wrapped his other arm around her.

Her head rested briefly on his shoulder. He smiled to himself. Finally he'd gotten the hang of holding her.

Just tight enough.


	23. Nigel'sTreeHugger'sGuideToNewEngland

**Where the Chapter Titles Came From:**

**Clearly I don't own any of this, this is all from _Crossing Jordan_ itself. Just wanted to make sure the chapter titles were properly cited. For the life of me I can't get this to format right.  
**

* * *

**  
**

"You are **surrounded by so many people who love you**. All you have to do is ask. It's okay to ask."

-Lily, _Intruded_

* * *

(Reading Jordan's references) "**Obsessive desire to solve crime**." 

-Garret, _Pilot_

* * *

"**Hold dear to your parent**s for it is a scary and confusing world without them." 

-Garret (quoting Emily Dickinson), _Pilot_

* * *

"Because when the people who know you look you in the eye and tell you, you have a problem, and they're rude and they're pissed off and they don't give a damn what you think, then you have a problem. If that bothers you that's too bad, because you know what, **having people in your life like that is a great gift**. If you don't appreciate that now, maybe you will someday." 

-Garret, _Dreamland_

* * *

"We're like the post office. **Neither rain, nor sleet…**" 

-Garret_, All the News Fit to Print_

* * *

"**Hot damn**! (pause) I mean you have a very lovely daughter, Mr. Cavanaugh." 

-Woody, _Crime and Punishment_

* * *

"I'm here today to talk to you about a career in **the exciting field of Medical Examination**." 

-Garret, _Pilot_

* * *

Jordan: We all have our demons. 

Garret: Yeah, we do.

Jordan: That's **why God created tequila**.

_-Devil May Care_

* * *

Garret: I think you want an ironclad definition of what this relationship is. 

René: Oh, I already have that. **Quicksand**.

_-Second Chances_

* * *

Jordan: You ask me, you've got a **classic St. Jude complex**. 

Garret: This ought to be good.

Jordan: Yeah, the patron saint of lost causes.

Garret: I'm familiar with the reference, but what's it got to do with me?

Jordan: Hello, it's been your MO ever since I met you.

Garret: That's a load of crap.

Jordan: If you say so, but if you're not a sucker for hard luck stories, then what the hell am I still doing here?

_-Dead Wives' Club_

* * *

"You know this job, Jordan, this place, it's not everything. But we're **the next best thing to a family**. I hope you know that." 

-Garret, _Intruded_

* * *

(On Jordan) 

Bug: Face it, we're tied to her like puppets, she pulls our strings and we dance.

Nigel: **Puppets indeed**.

-_Pandora's Trunk, Part Two_

* * *

Jordan: You know it's weird, all this time we spend with dead people. 

Garret: It's nice to have the chance to help keep one alive.

Jordan. Yeah. It is. Wasn't just me though. Where is **that badass Bug**?

_-After Dark_

* * *

Woody: The nun had a baby? How could that be? 

Jordan: She was **a woman first**, nun second.

_-Embraceable You_

* * *

(To Garret) 

"**You can screw me, but you can't screw with me**!"

-René, _Pandora's Trunk Part Two_

* * *

(Jordan comes back despite pouring rain and having the flu) 

"For God's sake, Jordan, what the hell are you doing? **Going for MV**P here?"

-Garret, _Under the Weather_

* * *

Woody: Jordan, whatever you do, do not go in that house! 

Jordan: I **wouldn't dream of it**.

Woody: Dammit, Jordan!

- _Murder in the Rue Morgue  
_

* * *

(to Nigel) 

"Save it for your interrogation. You'll recognize me; I'll be the one not wearing handcuffs."

-René, _Pandora's Trunk Part Two  
_

* * *

(having been kidnapped) 

Woody: How you holding up?

Jordan: **Just another day at the office.**

- _Sanctuary  
_

* * *

(To Nigel)"By the time he fell in, I doubt Santa knew if he was on the roof or riding on Rudolph. **Can we move on now**, little elf?" 

-Kate, _Faith  
_

* * *

Jordan: I'd like to think I have the ability to take care of myself when things get confusing. 

Garret: Not sure what you mean by that.

Jordan: My second year in med school, I did a rotation in pediatric oncology. And they warned us not to get too attached to the kids, but it was Christmas Eve. And there was this one five-year-old boy. And he still had this patch of red hair on his forehead. Well, around 10:00 P.M. he went code blue. I watched him die. And I just snapped. I left the hospital and just started walking. And I ended up at this Catholic Church just as midnight mass was starting. It was packed with people. I had this sudden urge to go inside and pray, which is really crazy because I'm a terrible Catholic. But I got in this long line. And just as I was about to get in, they closed the doors. Said the church was full.

Garret: So that's the moral of the story? **Locked out by God**? Sort of a metaphor for your life?

Jordan: No. I stood there in the cold. And just as I was about to give up, the doors opened. They had found one more seat. So I went inside and I prayed and I cried and held hands with perfect strangers.

-_Intruded _(full text of quote thanks to twiz tv .com)

* * *

Bug: Dr. Macy, can I ask you a question. It's about Lily.

Garret: The answer's yes.

Bug: What?

Garret: What kind of sign do you need, Bug. Sky writing? A **burning bush**? Whatever the question, if it's about Lily, the answer's yes.

-_D.O.A_


End file.
